A Melody of Second Chances
by SecretEngima
Summary: Of all the things on Melody Traver's list of things to do and see, going to an alien planet embroiled in a civil war was not one of them. Also not on her list was waking up as a totally different species, having her family become involved in said civil war, or falling in love with one of said aliens. However, fate rarely listens the personal preferences of eighteen year olds.
1. Chapter 1

**Greetings and Salutations! This is the first chapter of my very first Transformers story. I wrote this during the July session of CampNaNoWriMo and decided to post it here. As this is my first attempt at writing Transformers, please note that while I do as much research on the canon characters as possible I may not have them down completely quite yet. Also, I try my utmost to ensure that any words used for Cybertronians and their customs are common ones and not something made up from any one fan fiction author. So hopefully I will not be 'stepping on anyone's toes' so to speak.**

** If you happen to be a reader from my other story A Strange Pikachu in a Strange Land don't worry, I am not abandoning it and should have another chapter finished relatively soon.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Transformers fandom terms, Doctor Phil, or any other references to various continuities that may appear here. The only things I own are my OC's and the plot.**

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**Chapter One: How Things Were**

A song, if done correctly, is like an audible extension of the soul. Sadness or happiness, tragedy or good fortune, every song has a story to tell. Even if that song did not have words to go with its melody, it was the melody itself that mattered most. Words could be misinterpreted, twisted, lost. But the internal voice of the song could not, it always sang true no matter what key it was played in, or where it was heard.

Perhaps that was why her parents had named her Melody, to remind her that even if she changed on the outside, or said words she didn't mean, her own actions would show just what kind of song she really danced too.

Of course, she enjoyed dancing to many songs, such as the one she was currently pirouetting to in the small, well cared for back yard of her home. The battered and well loved stereo perched on the back porch began trilling high notes as the female singers lead up to the climax of their song.

With perfect timing made possible only by a thousand and one repetitions, eighteen year old Melody Travers leaped into the air, legs performing a perfect split just as the stereo blasted out the highest climactic note, her arms extended to the sky, hands held in delicate positions. The song faded away as she returned to earth with a soft thump and slid into a ballet-style bow.

"Bravo Madam! Bravo!" Melody jumped in surprise and whirled to face the porch.

Upon seeing who was clapping and cheering her face lit up into a smile, "Michael! You're back!" Melody practically flew up the steps to bodily tackle the tall, broad shouldered twenty-one year old.

Michael laughed and returned to enthusiastic hug, "Hey Melody, miss me?"

Melody laughed and pulled out of the hug to lightly smack him on the arm, "Of course I did! Do you have any idea what's the twins are like when you're gone? It's worse than handling a pack of mini-cons!"

Michael raised his eyebrows, "Oh, so, you only miss me because I can entertain the twins? I guess you won't be interested in what I brought you then." Melody crossed her arms over her chest and mock-pouted. Her two different colored eyes growing wide and babyish in an attempt to soften his mood. Michael chuckled and covered his eyes, pretending to be mortally affected by her 'puppy eyes', "Okay, okay! I'll give it to you! Just spare me from death by cuteness!"

Melody ceased her pouting and smiled timidly at her best friend, lightly brushing a strand of honey blond hair from her face as she watched him dig through his pockets for something. With a triumphant noise, Michael pulled a small package from his inner right jacket pocket and handed it to her, "For you, my lovely femme friend."

Melody giggled at his use of a Cybertronian term as she carefully unwrapped the mystery packet. The paper wrapping fell away and she gasped, "Oh, Michael, it's beautiful..." With gentle hands, Melody grabbed the slender chain and lifted the deep blue stone into the air.

Michael smiled at his adopted sister's wonder as she examined the small trinket he had found during his business trip. The engraved chain glinted with a dull copper-gold sheen that accented the rough sky blue stone clasped firmly in its middle. Reaching out, he took the necklace from her hands and motioned for her to turn around. She did, and he gently lifted her blond curls out of the way and began to fasten his gift around its recipient's neck, "I'm glad you like it, Star. I may not be able to buy you a dance studio or a karaoke machine, but I figured this beauty would look real nice around your neck at the recital tomorrow."

Melody turned back around and lightly touched his gift, "I love it Michael. But are you sure it wasn't too expensive?"

Michael laughed, "What? You say that like a board-member's secretary's assistant's assistant doesn't get any pay at all. Please, it wasn't any trouble as long as you wear it with pride."

Melody rolled her eyes, "You do realize that Zip and Track are going to murder you if you didn't get anything for them, right?"

Michael wrinkled his nose, "How dumb do you think I am?" She opened her mouth to reply and he added hastily, "Don't answer that. Where are the twins anyway?"

The unmistakable clatter of sneakers against wood and a youthful scream of outrage had both of them groaning and running for the far right corner of the back-yard fence. A wild brown mop of hair appeared over the top of fence, followed swiftly by bright blue eyes and a muddy face as its owner scrabbled madly to get over to Melody's side of the barrier, "Hurry, hurry! He's almost on us!"

The dirty eight year old cried out in triumph as he managed to swing a leg over the fence and perched on top of it. Melody watched with dangerously narrowed eyes as the mischief maker reached down and began pulling his accomplice to safety. Soon, two identical boys were perched on the fence, calling insults and jeers to someone Melody couldn't see. The first boy called down, "Not so tough **now** are you? What's the matter? Can't take on a pair of **real** warriors?"

The second boy piped up unhelpfully, "Yeah! A steak will make those go away no problem!"

Melody growled upwards, "Skyler and Samuel Travers, get down here **right now** or I'm pushing you back over that fence to face Matthew."

Both boys started guiltily and looked down at her, Skyler grinned shyly, "Oh, uh ... hi Melody! Hope we didn't, uh, interrupt your dance practice or anything."

Samuel nodded in agreement before waving to the glowering Michael, "Hi, Hardwire! When did you get back? Did your trip go well?" Michael merely crossed his arms over his well toned chest and glared silently.

The twins glanced at each other, "w' bi tro?" asked Skyler.

Samuel nodded his head, "tely."

Melody rapped a fist lightly on the fence to get their attention, "None of that. Climb down before Matthew's parents see you, or worse, call ours." Knowing that trying to run would only make things worse, the two identical trouble makers clambered down to stand in front of her, their hands automatically linking for comfort as they stared up at her with puppy eyes.

She stared at them for several seconds, ignoring the sounds of chaos emanating from the neighbors' side of the wooden wall. Finally, when she had decided that the twins were squirming enough, she asked, "What did you two do this time?"

They glanced at each other briefly before Skyler muttered, "Ma tr' cap So an hu hi. S be hi up."

Michael held up a hand, "Ah, ah, ah! In English you two, not twin speak. What did you do to Matthew?"

Samuel scowled and blurted, "He started it! He came over and captured Soundwave and threatened to take him apart!"

Skyler added stiffly, "Yeah, so we staged a rescue mission." As proof of his words, Skyler held up the small, battered Transformers toy that had been the pairs' pride and joy for years.

Melody felt some of her anger wash away at the sight of their loyalty to the toy and crouched down in front of them, "Is that all you did?" She asked softly.

There was a pause that told her everything she needed to know. She sighed, "Guys, I thought we discussed this. Just because Matthew is a bit of a..."

Skyler supplied flatly, "Slagging spawn of a glitched scraplet?"

Melody shot him a stern look and pointedly ignored Michael's snicker, "I was **going** to say, 'a bit of a trial' but that doesn't mean you two get to lash out at him or be just as much of a problem as he is. You are better than him, and being better means you can't simply march over there and beat him up for taking something that isn't his."

Skyler puffed out his chest, "Hey, Matthew threatened to hurt Sound, so we returned the favor."

_Oh, for the love of-!_ Melody looked up helplessly at Michael, silently pleading for him to talk sense into their little siblings. Michael nudged her gently out of the way and crouched down so he was at eye level with the twins, "Could you two have gotten Soundwave back without hurting Matthew?" He was answered with a petulant shrug and a reluctant nod. Keeping his voice soft, he continued, "And what does Optimus Prime say about Autobots and violence?"

The silence seemed to drag on for an eternity before Samuel muttered apologetically, "He says that Autobots only use violence as a last resort for when nothing else works."

Skyler sputtered indignantly, "But, but he also does anything it takes to rescue a teammate!"

Michael stared levelly at Skyler, "Yes, but no more than what is necessary. You could have gotten Soundwave back without getting into a fight, but you beat up Matthew anyway. You two intentionally broke one of the most important rules of the house and now you are going to have to be punished for it." Standing to his full height, Michael held out his hand, "Give me Soundwave."

Skyler scowled and clutched at the toy, "No! No fair! Not gonna!" Seeing his twin putting up resistance to their fate, Samuel immediately started shouting as well. Melody, knowing what would come next, dived for Skyler. The muddy child dodged her tackle and ran for the house, his sibling hot on his heels.

Melody spared just enough time to glower at Michael, "Nice try, Doctor Phil. But they're Decepticons this week."

Michael shrugged, "It was worth a shot anyway. Let's get them before they leave muddy footprints on the ceiling or something." As they ran after the twins into the house, Melody mused silently, _Why do I get the feeling that we're going to wish they did? Then again, what could they do that would be worse than that?_

The answers turned out to be, yes, muddy footprints on the ceiling would have been preferable and yes, two eight year olds trying to escape punishment could do much worse things than mud on the carpet or walls. All four of them stared down at the broken antique porcelain teapot in mute horror. The twins had smacked into the shelf holding it in their mad scramble for the hall and knocked the old work of practical art off of its home and to an untimely demise on the floor.

After what seemed like forever, Skyler whispered fearfully, "Mo' i' go t' ki' u' is sh?"

Samuel nodded slowly and whispered back, "May w ca fi i' bef sh com ho?"

Melody swallowed tightly, her mind too occupied with the clay corpse to chastise the twins about using 'twin speak' when others were present, "I don't suppose you bought a replacement hundred year old family heirloom teapot on your trip?"

Michael stared grimly at the million pieces of brown pottery, "Nope." The silence that followed stretched for a long time, nobody wanted to say anything that might make the situation worse somehow.

Samuel looked up at the 'adults' in the room, "What do we do now?"

Michael sighed and ran a hand through his shaggy brown hair, "Start cleaning up I guess. Twins, you two get a broom and a dust pan. Melody, can you help me sweep up the pieces?"

Melody nodded and crouched down to carefully begin gathering the larger pottery shards into a pile for sweeping, "How long before she notices it's gone do you think?"

Crouching next to her, Michael shrugged slightly, "No idea. With her instincts however, it probably won't be long. Maybe long enough to run for our lives … possibly."

Melody could help but giggle at that, "Laura goes bowling every Tuesday remember? She's got a killer aim."

Michael gingerly placed another piece on the growing pile and pretended to consider this, "You're right. In that case we might have just enough time to beg for mercy by offering ourselves as eternal servants to do her laundry washing." Melody gave a weak smile at his joke.

It was almost amusing to talk about Laura Travers that way. Not because she was cruel or nasty, quite the opposite, their foster mother was a very kind and caring person, if a little bit odd. Normally, Melody wouldn't have been too worried about the twins breaking something in their mad scrambles. Sure, they would be scolded and punished, but it would be a guaranteed fair punishment. But Laura's heirloom pottery was different, the pottery had **always** been off limits.

The one time previously that the twins had almost broken one of the delicate tea cups, Laura had thrown a fit of cataclysmic proportions. After that, none of them had so much as looked cross-eyed at them for fear of what the action might spark. Now they were going to have to find out what happened when one of her priceless antiques was shattered into a myriad of irreparable pieces.

Michael's puzzled voice broke through her thoughts, "The twins are taking an awfully long time getting those cleaning supplies." Melody looked up in mild surprise. It was true, they **were** taking a long time.

She stood up slowly, feeling strangely worried, "Zip? Track? Where are you two?"

The answer came faintly from the kitchen, "We're in here, Star! Trying to figure out the funny smell!" _Funny smell?_ Something unidentifiable began gnawing at her stomach as every primal instinct in her body screamed, 'danger!' She hurried to the kitchen, dimly aware that Michael was following close at her heels.

The twins were standing side by side in front of the gas stove, noses in the air and sniffing curiously. They had the cleaning tools in hand, but had obviously been too puzzled by the 'funny smell' to continue their original task. Skyler looked up at her, "Smell it? I think it's coming from the stove. It's making a hissing noise too." Melody lifted her nose slightly in the air and sniffed, noting the afore mentioned hissing sound as she did. An heavy sweet smell hit her nose, bringing with it the unconscious image of a car or truck. _What in the world?_

Horrid realization struck her just as Michael ran forward and grabbed Skyler, yelling, "Gas leak! Everyone out! Outside now!" Melody felt adrenaline jolt through her system and her heart pound as she immediately grabbed Samuel and ran for the front door. A tiny part of her mind tried to remain calm, _it's only a leak, no need to panic just yet. Just get outside to a safe distance and call 911. Don't panic, stay calm, the twins need you to stay calm!_

Just as they reached the front door and Michael was yanking it open, Samuel stopped, "Wait! Prowl is still in my room!" He turned and started to fight Melody's grip, "I've got to get him!"

Michael reached out and yanked Samuel through the door, "No, you need to get outside to safety!"

Samuel and Skyler both began fighting, they loved the small police car transformer almost as much as Soundwave and refused to leave their 'comrade' in danger. Melody abruptly shouted over the noise, "Stop!" Crouching swiftly down in front of the twins she said urgently, "Where is Prowl?"

Michael was giving her a 'don't you dare' look that she promptly ignored. Samuel stammered out tearfully, "On-on the d-dresser! P-please! I h-have to-!"

Melody cut him off, "No, get to safety, **I'll** get Prowl and be right back." Without waiting for Michael's yell of protest, she was on her feet and running back through the house, trying to ignore the steadily increasing smell of gas filling the house. Running upstairs with a natural grace and speed, she burst into the twins shared room and immediately spotted the troublesome toy sitting innocently on the dresser as promised.

Grabbing it, she ran downstairs again, heart hammering in her chest like a drum as she made for the door. _Almost there!_ Melody burst out the door and started sprinting across the yard towards the whimpering twins and an outraged Michael. _Almost safe, almost safe, I'm going to be okay, _**_we're_**_ going to be okay._

However, fate apparently had other plans for them. Just as Melody reached the group, she heard the unmistakable scream of a vehicle engine gone wild. The driver of the Chevy pick-up, drunk and speeding well over seventy miles per hour, screeched around the corner, jumped the curb, and flew straight for the evacuated house.

The world became unbearably slow for Melody. She could hear every pound of her heart as it jumped against her ribcage, see clumps of turf fly as the kamikaze truck headed unstoppably for the home she'd lived in for twelve years, and know exactly what was about to happen. Yet, despite how much her mind screamed for her body to run away, it refused to respond. She simply stood there as the vehicle rushed past her and through the wall of the house. The world didn't even speed up as the gas, volatile enough as it was, started to explode.

As she watched to wall of fire roll towards her in slow, almost frame by frame motion, she found that her last thoughts weren't about her impending death, or whether it might hurt. Her only thought was, _at least the twins won't get in trouble about the broken teapot._ Then, everything was searing hot and totally dark.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello everyone! Here is chapter two!**

**Review response: Dear SunnySides, um ... I'm glad you are pleased? No one has ever responded to my stories with so many ****capitalized 'yeses' before. Be assured that I will do my utmost to avoid Mary-Sue tendencies. Thank you for the lovely review!**

**Dear Savvy Orion, thank you very much for the wonderful review! While this may be my first time writing a Transformers story I have been a fan for a few years now and did my best to research the subject thoroughly before starting this project. So, hopefully this will live up to expectations. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Author's Note: Could someone let me know if I am writing Jazz's accent correctly? I am basing it more off of Jazz from Transformers Animated than the movies because of more to go on and writing in accents is tricky. Also, let me know how I do on Generation One characters, I have looked them up repeatedly on various Transformers Wiki's and read about them in fan fiction, but as I can't find any episodes of the series I may not have gotten them right.**

** Since actual Cybertronians will be making an appearance in this chapter, I feel the need to say that I am combining characters from various universes in this story. For instance, Jazz and Ironhide look like their Michael Bay movie versions while Prowl, Mirage, and Chromia are Generation One in colors and personality. Optimus Prime, Ultra Magnus, and Ratchet are the versions from Transformers Prime. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are complicated and I will describe them better in a different chapter. From now on I will 'announce' a new transformer here in the author's notes and label which generation they are based off of. Hope this helps.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references to other books, movies, music, etc. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs. (Including the bartender bot Buffer, whom I made up. If his name is shared with a cannon character, I apologize)**

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**Chapter Two: New Circumstances**

Samuel whimpered as he began to come awake, had he fallen asleep to the TV again? He hoped he hadn't missed anything important, like Transformers Prime reruns. Or the movie reruns that he technically wasn't supposed to watch because of the swearing. Not like he didn't hear all that and more whenever Rodney got angry.

He twitched tiredly and began mentally trying to coax himself awake. _Maybe I should just can it and go back to sleep._ A familiar voice suddenly whispered into his ear, "Sam! Sam! Wa u! Yo nee t' se thi!" Samuel grunted irritably as he felt the owner of the voice start shaking his shoulder. Really, what could be so interesting that he had to wake up and see it that instant.

An wave of irritation swept over him, followed swiftly by a stubborn feeling as his twin continued to shake him and call his name. Finally, he cracked an eye open, "**Wha**?"

Bright blue eyes glowed at him from a silver face as his tormentor grinned, "W rob no!" It took several seconds of blankly staring at his brother before the twin speak words sank in. With a gasp, he sat up, now wide awake as he stared in shock at his sibling's drastic appearance change. Skyler grinned at him and thumped his chest lightly with a fist, causing a slight pinging noise, "Se? Rob no! Yo to!"

Samuel hastily looked down at himself to confirm his brother's words. It was true. With wondering eyes, he lifted a sleek metal hand in front of his face and wiggled its silver fingers experimentally. Turning his hand over, he examined the red plating on its back. His eyes traveled up his arm, taking in the sight of the deep red metal pieces that guarded sensitive wires.

When he began examining his upper arms, he discovered that a stripe of steel grey ran from his inner elbow to underneath his U shaped shoulder plate. Further inspection revealed an identical grey stripe running vertically along the top of his shoulder plates. Warm feelings of pleasure flooded his chest, but somehow he knew it wasn't just his feelings. Looking up, he blinked at Skyler, who was still grinning.

Skyler motioned to his own head, "W ha he cre! Se?" Reaching up obediently, Samuel felt the top of his head. True to his brother's word, he felt the smooth rise of a small head crest running front to back on his head. Out of curiosity he examined his sibling's colors and body. They were identical in frame and build. Small, minimal, well fitting armor, grey head crests, and grey accents on their upper arms, shoulders, head, and knees.

Studying his brother's helmet, he realized that it looked a lot like the greek helmets he'd seen on one of Michaels favorite programs, the History Channel. The only major difference being the side guards were much smaller and lower from the eyes. As such, the protective plates only covered his face from the bottom of his cheekbone to just before the tip of his chin before pulling back and extending upwards to cover his temples.

Samuel made a slight tilting motion with his head and Skyler immediately obliged be turning his head to give his brother a profile angle. The metal side plating on the helmet looped up over round headphone-like appendages that Samuel assumed were ears and then sank back down to cover the back of his head and mid-neck. Skyler turned his head to face him again and pointed to the two steel grey accent plates that started at points on his forehead and expanded as they stretched towards the helmet back in a rounded curve.

Samuel slowly felt a smile spread across his face as he realized exactly what he and his brother were, "Co!" Pleasure and excitement surged through his chest, pulsing like a steady fire. Samuel placed a hand over his chest plating in surprise, it felt as if he wasn't just feeling his own happiness. It felt ... doubled somehow.

He looked back at Skyler to see his sibling had a similar look of surprise on his face. After a moment's hesitation he asked timidly, "D yo fe tha? I yo ch?"

Skyler nodded vigorously, "Ye! Ma w ha spa bon?" Samuel tilted his head to one side and considered this for a second.

After rolling the idea over in his mind several times, Samuel suggested, "Ma w sho t i. Li pathy." Skyler nodded eagerly and on an unspoken signal they concentrated on each other.

The feeling filled their chests and Samuel suddenly heard his brother's voice clearly inside him,_ "Can you hear me?"_

Samuel giggled gleefully, _"Yeah! This is awesome! Now we can talk as much as we want and no will know!"_

Skyler held up a hand which Samuel gladly smacked in a high-five, _"Definitely. Hey! Since we're Transformers now, we should use our robot names!"_

Samuel smirked,_ "Good idea ... Zipline."_

Zipline smirked right back, _"Always are ... Fast Track. What do you say we go explore?"_

Fast Track nodded eagerly at the suggestion and stood up. For the first time since waking up, Fast Track took a serious look at his surroundings. Metal walls towered all around him, flecks of rust beginning to form on their surfaces like freckles. In the far right corner, a desk stood forlornly gathering dust, its stool tipped over in some long forgotten incident. Turning around, he spotted the large outline of a door and pointed to it, "The!" He had automatically reverted to twin speak in his excitement at finding the exit.

Zipline nodded and marched over to it, also reverting to twin speak, "Ho w ge' i op?"

Fast Track moved across the metal floor to stand next to his twin, "The." He pointed upwards at a cracked black panel. Zipline sent him a burst of pleasure, all of their knowledge gained from sci-fi movie marathons with Michael told them that it must be an access panel. Zipline placed a hand against the wall for balance and reached as far as he could for it. His fingers tapped repeatedly against the wall pathetically short of his target.

Fast Track wandered over and tapped his brother's shoulder, "Ho sti, I cli u an ge i." Zipline nodded and obediently held still as Fast Track climbed onto his shoulders and reached for the stubbornly high panel. Zipline grunted slightly under his weight as Fast Track managed to lightly pat the control panel. There was a long pause and a low grinding noise as the door slowly inched open a few feet before stopping.

Fast Track jumped off of Zipline's shoulders and shrugged, _"Better than nothing I guess."_

Zipline gave him a long look before squirming through the narrow opening, _"I'm gonna go with guess. Let's go. You are very heavy by the way."_

Fast Track snorted as he followed Zipline through the opening, _"Not as heavy as you, glitch."_ Zipline looked as if he was going to retort, but stopped short once he looked around at the hall. Weak sunlight filtered in through the gaping holes in the ceiling and walls, casting ominous shadows around the jagged edges and broken debris. Fast Track swallowed softly at the sight of huge transformers ... utterly still transformers.

His spark pulsed with sudden fear at how quiet everything was and he could tell Zipline felt the same. "Zip?" He murmured, "I do li thi an mo ... I wan Star ... o Wire." They sidled closer to each other and clutched hands, instinctively seeking comfort from physical contact. _Where is Star?_ He hesitantly took a step forward and yelped as his foot nudged something unexpectedly.

Looking hastily down, his panicked gaze was met by the studiously blank gazes of two small toys. His panic instantly turned to joy, "Soundwave! Prowl!" The beloved toys were in his arms within nanoseconds as he huddled closer to Zipline to share in the happiness of recovered friends.

After several moments of gleeful cuddling, Zipline slowly pulled back with Soundwave in his arms and looked the toy up and down studiously, "He's different. He's all floppy now. Prowl too."

Now it was Fast Track's turn to give his brother a long look, "We changed, why shouldn't they? Besides, I like them this way."

Zipline considered the logic behind Fast Track's statement, promptly finding it infallible, "Okay. Let's try and find Melody and Michael now."

Fast Track eyed the dimly lit and frighteningly tall corridor uneasily, "Do we have too?"

Zipline nodded, trying to project confidence he did not feel, "You can't expect them to find **us** do you? Come on." Pausing he added over their newly discovered bond, _"It's either that or be in here all alone, Track."_

Fast Track shot another uneasy look all around, _"I guess you're right ... but how will we find them in a place this big?"_

Zipline's answer came with childish simplicity and a surprising measure of confidence, _"Of course we'll find them. That explosion is what brought us here and they were right next to us when it happened. So, they can't very be far away. All we have to do is call for them."_

Fast Track started to nod in agreement until he realized that 'calling for them' would inevitably draw attention to them ... and very possibly unwanted attention. _Still,_ he reasoned, _I haven't any better ideas._ Huddling close together, they began tentatively shuffling down the corridor in a random direction, calling softly for their older siblings hopefully.

* * *

First Lieutenant Jazz of the Autobot Forces of Cybertron strode through the halls with a purposeful bounce in his step. From behind his blue visor, his optics flickered back and forth, up and down. Taking in every angle, every passing bot who waved hello or saluted according to rank and familiarity. He always nodded politely back to them with a flashing smile, never letting on that his senses were on full alert.

With a warning identical roar from their engines, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe went tearing past, forcing Jazz to leap into a doorway to keep from getting hit. Jazz shouted a warning to them, "Woah! Watch it you two!" But they were already too far away to hear his shout.

The reason for their desperate speed and flagrant breaking of the 'no driving in the halls' rule soon sped past in the form of a sleek black and white law enforcement vehicle. Jazz snickered slightly and intercommed the pursuing security officer, ::Wha'd they do this time Prowler?::

The reply was curt, ::They engaged in illegal graffiti painting of an officer's quarters. Also, my name is **Prowl** not Prowler.::

Jazz snickered again as he resumed strolling down the hall, ::Good luck then ... Prowler.:: Prowl did not respond, but then again, Jazz didn't expect him too. He couldn't help but smile at the scowl he could imagine on his security-orientated friend's face.

Jazz resumed his easygoing stroll down the halls towards the pub. Prowl might be perfectly willing to go on high-speed chases before his morning energon, but Jazz wasn't. A beep on his private intercom channel sounded before opening to the rich voice of his leader, ::Optimus Prime to Jazz.:: _There goes my morning plans._

Without pausing, or letting on that he was holding a conversation in his head, Jazz replied, ::Jazz here. Wha'd you need, O.P?::

Optimus's voice sounded ever so slightly apologetic, he knew what it was like to get called in before breakfast. ::I need you to come to my office right away, old friend. There is something we need to discuss in private.::

::You got it, O.P. Jazz out.:: Once the line was broken, Jazz allowed a small sigh to escape his vents, _I knew it. Probably another 'Con activity spike that needs investigating. Oh well, I'll just take my morning energon on the go ... again._ Jazz increased his pace to a brisk jog and opened another channel intercom channel, ::Yo, Buffer. Yah on duty?::

A cheerful bass answered him, ::Am I ever not? Let me take a wild guess. You need your energon 'on the go' again?::

Jazz grinned as he approached the pub door, ::Yep, thin' yah can have it ready by tha time Ah roll in ta tha pub?::

The door swished open automatically for him and Jazz trotted in to see Buffer standing at his bar, smiling confidently with a small energon cube in his hand, "Good thing I already had it prepared. Are you ever going to actually come in here and **sit down** to eat?"

Jazz didn't slow his pace as he buzzed up to the bar, snagged the cube and buzzed back out. Just before the door slid closed again, he called, "Now were would tha fun in thah be mech?"

Buffer intercommed him with a reply, ::It is for those of us who know the word 'stop', Jazz.::

Jazz laughed, ::An' thah word means wha' exac'ly...? Neva mind, gotta go Buff, O.P is callin'.:: Buffer said goodbye and left Jazz to run to Optimus Prime's office in relative silence.

Jazz slid to a stop in front of Optimus's office, causing the gargantuan black warrior standing guard to raise an optic ridge at him, "Where's the Decepticon horde, Jazz?"

The Autobot saboteur rolled his optics from behind the safety of his visor, "Mornin' ta yah too, 'Hide. Ah got a meetin' with O.P."

Ironhide nodded amiably and motioned for Jazz to head inside, "Careful Jazz, your favorite strategist is in there as well."

Jazz hid his immediate irritation at the new fact and merely saluted the Weapons Specialist casually, "Thank's fo' tha heads up, 'Hide." The door slid open and Jazz stepped into the outer sanctuary of the Prime's office. The part where a secretary was supposed to reside. Jazz briefly mused on why Optimus never took a secretary since the start of the war.

"Good cycle, Jazz. Thank you for coming." Jazz banished his useless thoughts and stepped up to the tall blue and red mech who had greeted him.

Saluting with two fingers and leaning his weight onto one leg, Jazz greeted, "Good cycle, Prime. Wha's tha problem?" Jazz's easy-going reply caused a tiny smile to flicker through his leader's optics, completely negating the effect of Ultra Magnus's disapproving scowl.

Optimus Prime calmly motioned for Jazz to enter his inner office, "Not out here, we must discuss the situation in complete security." Jazz followed him and Ultra Magnus obediently into the inner office and waited for Optimus to fill him in.

Ultra Magnus spoke first, "Late in the lunar-cycle our security team picked up a sizable energy surge in Alpha Quadrant two-sixty. Similar in mass and nature to a space bridge warp."

Jazz nodded his understanding, "Didn' we wipe tha 'Cons out ah thah area a few metacycles ago?"

Ultra Magnus's face twitched into a scowl again at Jazz's pointed lack of using the word 'sir'. He continued anyway, "As far as the reports or scanners said, yes. However, during the brief time the energy surge appeared on our scanners, no Autobot held space-bridge was registered as active. Therefor, it is a logical possibility that the Decepticons are up to something and are using the abandoned base in the Alpha Quadrant to stage a surprise attack on our flank."

Jazz tapped his fingers against his right leg in a rapid beat as he rolled this over in his mind. He had helped to clear that quadrant himself and hadn't seen anything worth coming back for. Of course, as Ultra Magnus had stated, the 'Cons could be attempting to sneak back into the area to stage a surprise attack. But if they were attempting stealth, why use a bridge? Of any kind? Any officer worth their weight in energon would know that such a move was bound to be picked up on Autobot scanners._ Even Screamer would know better. Something doesn't add up here._

Craning his head back, he spoke to Optimus, "I think i's a trap, suh. Megatron would neva authorize such a stupid mistake."

Optimus nodded in approval of Jazz's conclusion, "As do I, however, whether the Decepticons are responsible for the surge or not, it must be investigated. If the Decepticons are not the cause of the surge, they are sure to be searching as well. If a third party, or a neutral faction we do not yet have contact with, is at the source of this mystery, we must find them **before** the Decepticons do."

Jazz tapped his fingers on his leg a few more times, the steady rhythm helping order his thoughts, "Am Ah goin' with a team or is this a solo dance, Prime?"

Ultra Magnus stepped in again, "You will be leading a small strike team into the Alpha Quadrant consisting of these Autobots." He handed Jazz a datapad which was quickly looked over. _Mirage, the twins, if we can coax Prowl into letting them out of the brig, Ironhide, Ratchet, and Chromia._

Jazz looked up from the datapad, "Looks glitchin', Prime. When do we roll out?"

The answer was ASAP and it didn't take long before the request team, minus the twins, was rolling out towards Alpha Quadrant two-sixty. Jazz ran a quick mental checklist to see if everything was covered as they began to pull out of the large gates of the base. The trip would take several joors as the team couldn't risk using a ground-bridge and alerting the Decepticons to their presence and the last thing the mission needed was to be half-way there and discover that someone had forgotten something vital.

Jazz opened the intercom, ::Everyone packin' what they need?::

Ironhide was the first to respond, ::Ready and revving.::

Mirage's engine purred slightly from his position next to Jazz, ::Fully prepared, sir.::

:: A medic is always prepared.:: Jazz could hear Ratchet's irritation at the question and would have smiled if he could. Ratchet and stealthy, high risk missions did not go well together. The medic could become a bit of a control glitch when stressed. Hopefully though, this mission wouldn't send him completely over the edge.

Chromia sounded highly sarcastic from her position to Ironhide's left, ::Why no, sir! This is my first mission, sir! What do you think, Jazz-mech? I am locked, loaded, and ready to kick 'Con tailpipe.::

Jazz revved his engine in response, ::Okay then team. Le's get this party started!::


	3. Chapter 3

**Greetings! Here is a new chapter, I hope everyone enjoys it. **

**Review ****response: Dear SunnySides, hello! Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know what the twins are saying ... when I'm writing it. Afterwards ... that's a little trickier. How about instead of breaking out a decoder ring, I just tell you how I write their twin-speak? It's simple really, I come up with the normal version of what they are about to say, such as, "That guy is really tall!" and then cut letters off of the end of each word, thus creating, "Tha gu i re ta!" On longer words, like 'definitely' I chop off the beginning instead of the end, thus making the word into a twin-speak 'telly'. If you want, I can start putting up translations of their words whenever twin-speak appears in a chapter. Or, you can translate it yourself using context and the knowledge of how their gibber first comes into being. Thank you for telling me how you write Jazz, it was very helpful!**

**Author's note: I hope this chapter goes over well, I wasn't sure how I did on some parts.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. I only own my OCs and the plot.**

* * *

**Chapter Three: Seeking Answers**

Melody stared at her reflection in the cracked display screen for a solid four minutes. It didn't change. The slender, pure white robot with two differently colored optics stared right back with a horrified expression. It was almost as if the mirrored apparition was about to exclaim, 'Who put **you** into my body? Get your own!'

A tiny whimper escaped her as she lifted a slender, pearl colored hand to touch the reflective screen. The apparition did the same. _What happened to me? Am I ... dead somehow? Or in a coma in some hospital?_ Her sensitive metal fingers traced one of the cracks in the long dead display, _no, this feels far too real to be a dream. Even a coma induced one._

Experimentally, she lifted her spare hand to the center of her chest. A steady thump vibrated underneath her curled fingers, a steady thump right in the center of her chest. _Hearts are off to the side ... this is in the middle._ Lowering both of her hands, she continued to stare at the cracked reflection and whispered, "What happened to me?"

She had woken up around eight minutes ago, something in her mind stubbornly brought up the word 'breem'. It had taken several minutes, 'kliks' the odd part of her mind insisted, before she realized the full extent of her situational change. At first she hadn't noticed her new look, she had simply stared in awe at the walls, covered in dusty sci-fi style display screens and with black scorch marks all over the screens and floor.

Turning around slowly to look at the room again, she caught sight of the still robotic corpse that had first 'greeted' her and shuddered violently. It had been in her mad scramble to get away from it that she had whirled around and spotted the white female robot that she had eventually concluded was **her**. Now that she was taking a second look around the room, Melody realized that there were many metal bodies lying at unnatural angles on the floor or draped over what she assumed were control panels.

_I'm in some kind of control room. How did I get here though?_ Doing her best not to either burst into tears, could she even cry? Or start screaming in terror, Melody began inching her way around the silent fallen sentinels and toward the smashed open doorway on the far side of the room. She did her best to keep her eyes fixed on the door, but after stumbling over a lifeless arm with a startled scream, she changed her point of concentration to the floor instead.

As her eyes drifted over yet another faceless helmet, with only a darkened visor to bear witness that it was the front and not the back, something in her mind niggled quietly, _I know that mask._ Melody shuddered and rubbed her arms as she hastily looked away and made a mad scramble for the open door. Tripping over a random piece of debris, she flailed her arms out to catch herself and screamed loudly as she collided with something metal and **warm** that immediately clutched her with an iron grip.

Frantic thoughts about weapons and escape tactics scrambled through her head without place or consideration as she flailed and screeched. Her right hand lashed out blindly and was rewarded by a yell of pain and a loosening of her captor's grip. Some instinct caused her knee to jerk upwards and collide with a clang against her attacker's midriff. The grip vanished completely and she shot blindly away several paces until she stumbled and fell **again**, landing on her stomach plating with a jarring thud.

Rolling over onto her back, she began heaving, trying to cool down after the panic as she looked wildly at her doubled over opponent. The masculine robot was a dull green, like the color often seen on camo only without the brown variation pattern. He was clutching his middle with one silver hand and his shoulder with the other.

Melody froze, too surprised at seeing another living thing, especially a mechanical living thing, to move. The stranger's eyes, optics? Opened and looked her way, revealing deep ruby depths that sent alarm bells off in her head, literally. The cause of her lack of motion quickly switched from surprise to terror as one word rolled endlessly in her head, _Decepticon, Decepticon, Decepticon, Decepticon._ As that one terrifying word bounced around in her mind, she stared at him, waiting for his reaction with almost pessimistic resignation.

Instead of moving to tear her apart like she was expecting, the stranger merely stared back. His optics slowly swept up and down her slender white form before settling on her face with a look of confusion. _My eyes, he doesn't know what to make of my eyes._

His jaw worked slightly and Melody resumed panting, her body felt far too hot and panting seemed to be the only thing that could cool it down. His lips twitched and he whispered softly, almost fearfully, "Melody? Is ... is that you?"

It felt like every process in her mind stopped short. _He knows my name. I know that voice. Could it be?_ "Michael?"

His face lit up in relief, "Melody! It is you! Oh thank the Allspark!" Melody felt her body hitch slightly as she sobbed with relief at finding a friendly, if not quite familiar, face. Scrambling to her knees, Melody and Michael embraced, holding on to one another for dear life.

Michael stroked her back softly with one hand as Melody whispered shakily, "I thought I was alone. All alone."

Her best friend shushed her softly, "I know, Melody, I know. But it is all right now, we'll figure this out together, I promise." Melody lay there, curled up against Michael, seeking comfort against his surprisingly warm metal chest, for an unknown length of time. A random thought suddenly flickered through her mind, _The twins would be teasing us for ... the twins!_

Sitting up with a startled noise, Melody cried, "Michael, the twins! If we're here somehow, then they might be too!"

Michael froze briefly as her statement sunk into him, "You're right ... we've got to find them." Slowly they both stood to their feet and looked around, silently wondering where the twins might possibly be in the dimly lit maze of doom.

Melody turned to Michael and found that she had to crane her head backwards to look at his face, "Scrap, you're tall." Michael looked down at her, then at himself, then back at her. He chuckled weakly. Melody shook her head, "No, seriously, when did you get to be so slagging tall? I should come up to your **shoulder** not your **waist**."

Michael shrugged, "Growth spurt, maybe?" Melody rolled her eyes at the weak joke. _Yeah, if becoming a giant camo green robot with red eyes and wheels for ankles counts as a 'growth spurt'._

She started to say as much when two timid, identical voices echoed faintly from somewhere to her left. "Mel? Mic? A yo the? I an o the?"

Melody glanced quickly at Michael, "The twins." Turning towards the faint sounds of twin speak she called, "Skyler! Samuel! Over here!" Rapid footfalls answered her call and within moments two small figures came scurrying around the corner to meet them. Melody was instantly on her knees with her arms wrapped tightly around the twins in a hug that was returned with double the vigor.

Gently kissing the tops of their heads she murmured, "Thank the Allspark that you're okay." Worriedly, she held them at arms length, "You are okay aren't you? Nothing damaged?"

As they both nodded and Skyler asked, "Why wouldn't we? Have you **seen** our new look? We're awesome now!"

Samuel piped up cheerfully, "Yeah! Soundwave and Prowl are too!" To prove his point they both held up a pair familiar looking toys for her inspection. Gingerly, Melody touched one of the now plushy playthings, _its not plastic anymore. It feels like metal ... but its soft. How is that?_ A snide voice inwardly replied, _same as how you're robot now._

Michael laughed weakly, "That's nice Samuel-"

The little boy's head shot up indignantly, "It's not Samuel anymore! My name is Fast Track!"

Skyler piped up as well, "And mine is Zipline. Just like you two are Starwish and Hardwire."

Melody frowned in confusion, "Come again?"

The newly dubbed Zipline rolled his eyes, "We're Transformers now, duh. So, that means we need to use our transformer names. You know, the ones we always use in our games all the time." A tiny 'oh' of understanding graced Melody's mouth. All four of them were very ardent fans of the Transformers line and, at the twins behest, had often played imaginary games in that 'world'. The twins, being all or nothing in everything they did, had coaxed their adopted siblings into designing and naming Cybertronian versions of themselves.

Realization clicked in her mind and with a gasp Melody shot to her feet and rushed back into the abandoned command center she had first awoken in. Rushing to the nearest screen, she examined her reflection with new eyes.

The key words to describe her body would be petite and slender. Well fitting armor that was designed to be as un-spiked and unadorned as possible covered her frame almost completely. Her helmet was smooth and well formed to her head, arching from its slender nose guard up over her forehead and across her temples.

The triangular amplifiers on the backs of her circular audial sensors twitched slightly under her visual scrutiny as she reached up a hand to lightly touch where her helmet covered the base of her skull and the edge of her jaw bone. Her optics, right one blue, left one red, glanced away from the reflection long enough to study her slender feet, ones without high heels that goodness, and the exposed ankle joint.

Her eyes swept upwards again to study the stick-like protrusions extending upwards from the back of her shoulders and how they moved when she shifted her arms slightly. _I wonder..._

Melody frowned, concentrating on the protrusions. A small window appeared in the corner of her vision with the message, prosthetic extensions: activated. With a small chime, both of the 'sticks' separated into three jointed limbs each. "Whoa," a rush of strange sensations tingled through her as her nervous system connected with the prosthetic limbs and caused them to twitch.

The twins spoke up from behind her, "Wow, Melody, nice limbs!" Melody whirled to face them, her new limbs clattering noisily against various debris and causing her to wince.

She spasmodically lifted the limbs higher, "Uh, I suppose," the prosthetics waved and squirmed like charmed snakes at a fair and she glowered at them, "really hard to control though." _How do I put these things away?_ Melody concentrated on her desire and the limbs abruptly refolded into their original forms as shoulder protrusions. She gave a tiny sigh of relief, "Okay, that's taken care of."

She looked over and up at Michael, "They're right, Michael. This body ... it's the same one I designed for our games. I've **become** Starwish and you, you've become Hardwire."

Michael slowly strode over to a blank screen and stared at himself. He rubbed his left shoulder plate, "I still have my scar, but you're right. We're ... Cybertronians now." He turned back to face her, "I ... I think the twins have the right idea. I don't know where we are or how we got here, but it we do meet other Cybertronians, our old names aren't going to cut it. We need to become Hardwire and Starwish in form **and** name."

Taking a moment to steady herself for yet another change, Starwish nodded, "Right."

From the doorway, Zipline asked curiously, "So ... does that mean those mechs are Vehicons?" Starwish looked down at where Zipline was pointing at one of the bodies in the room and felt yet another realization hit her head like a sledgehammer.

Apparently, Hardwire had come to the same conclusion, "Scrap."

Starwish felt the need to whisper, "Vehicons, like in Transformers Prime."

Zipline and Fast Track heard her words and completely missed the serious implications, "Really? Cool! We'll get to meet Bulkhead and Arcee and Dreadwing and Bumblebee and beat up Starscream and-"

Hardwire yelled over their, "Hold it!" The twins fell silent in surprise. He didn't usually yell at them. Hardwire shook his head at Zip and Track, "You two need to slow down. We don't even know where we are yet. We are not going to go running off and looking for trouble, especially the Decepticon kind."

Zipline and Fast Track both frowned, "Aww!" They glared up at Hardwire and began twitching irritably. Starwish sighed, she knew what would come next if they couldn't distract the twins from their disappointment.

Stepping over to them, she knelt down and said coaxingly, "How about we explore this place first and worry about kicking after-plating later? Who knows? We might find something interesting." Zipline cocked his head to one side and stared at her for several seconds before looking silently over at his brother. Fast Track stared back him and shrugged. There was a long, unnerving pause as the two merely stared into each other's optics.

Starwish glanced over her shoulder at Hardwire, who shrugged helplessly. _Wait a second, Cybertronian twins are formed from a spark that splits evenly between two frames._ She narrowed her eyes and glowered at the twins, "Are you two speaking through a spark-bond?"

They jumped guiltily and looked up at her. Their guilt was proven when they started speaking in unison, "No! We were just ... uh..."

Hardwire shook his head in amazement and muttered, "Like Scraplets to metal."

Starwish patted their shoulders, "It's all right you two. It's pretty amazing in fact. But let's save the silent chatting for **after** we explore our temporary home."

Zip and Track nodded in agreement and hugged her, "Okay, Star." Pulling out of the hug they looked around, "So, where do we start first?"

* * *

Jazz rolled underneath a piece of rubble, wincing slightly as he felt its sharp edges scrape against his finish. _Sunstreaker would throw a fit if he saw that._ ::Stay still everybot, jus' let 'um pass.::

Ironhide's voice growled over the intercom as the Vehicon patrol swooped overhead with a dull roar, ::We can take them Jazz!:: Chromia chorused in agreement as the enemy patrol preformed a wide circuit around the area.

Jazz held perfectly still in the shadow of his refuge, ::Negative, Hide, Chromia. Even if we slagged this patrol an' came out without injury, Ol' Megs would get suspicious when they wouldn't report back. We need ta stay unnoticed for as long as possible an' make Megatron think thah tha power surge was nothin' worth investigatin'.::

Mirage coolly entered the debate from his invisible perch on top of a rise, ::Lieutenant Jazz is correct. The flight pattern those Vehicons are using is Gamma G, preemptive scouting only. Their job is to fly over a seemly abandoned area and flush out any hidden opposition. If we attack, we will be undoubtedly alerting Megatron to our presence and the possible value of whatever caused the surge. We would also be putting ourselves in increasing danger.::

Chromia growled out, ::Nice excuse for a coward.::

Ratchet barked at her harshly from underneath a broken cargo transport, ::It is also sound logic. Use that processor of yours Chromia! The closer we can get to the objective without revealing ourselves or risking injury, the safer our mission will be.:: Everyone fell deathly quiet as the Decepticon scouting patrol transformed in mid-air and landed with a shudder onto the abandoned street.

Jazz casually studied the scuff marks on the pede within arms reach of his visor. _Mech needs a good polish. A new coat of paint would probably be good for his looks too if he wasn't already ugly._ To keep himself calm as the pede idly shifted closer to him, he began counting the places on it where the paint had been completely scratched off.

Just as he crested one hundred and twenty, a gravely vocalizer sounded above his hiding place, "Any sign of Autobots?"

The owner of the pede Jazz had been studying stiffened to attention, "No sir, no signs of them in this sector."

The first voice rumbled, "Transform and move out then, we still have five more sectors to check before we can return to base." There was a synchronized chorus of 'yes sir's and the unmistakable sound of transformation. The pede so agonizingly close to Jazz's visor vanished and the roar of engines testified to the departure of the enemy. Jazz didn't move, ::Mirage, let us know when they're out of sight an' which way they was headed. Everybot else, wait anotha' breem after standard before movin' from cover.::

Mirage commed in, ::They have left visual range, sir. I last saw them flying due east.::

Jazz swept his eyes across the small range of landscape and counted down eleven breems on his internal chronometer. While ten was standard procedure for this type of situation, Jazz's instincts told him to wait an extra breem in case of a Decepticon trick.

Eleven breems ticked past without incident and Jazz carefully crawled out from under the rubble to look around. Ironhide stood up from where he had been huddled in the door of a collapsed housing unit, "Well, that was boring. I still say we should have slagged them when we had the chance."

Chromia emerged from behind Ironhide, _figures they would hide in the same place,_ "How soon until they come back do you think?"

Ratchet grumbled as he brushed rust flakes from his shoulder plating, "Not for another several joors at least. They will most likely scout the other sectors and report back to their base for further instructions."

Mirage materialized next to Ironhide, causing the large mech to jump slightly in surprise. The aristocratic mech dipped his helm in an apology before speaking to all on the team, "I believe it would be wise if we moved on post haste. We are still joors away from the energy surge's coordinates and I do not fancy spending the lunar cycle outside Autobot territory any longer than necessary."

Jazz nodded, "Agreed, Mirage. Tha soona we can get to tha coordinates, the bettah it will be. Autobots, start your engines." There was a chorus of affirmatives and the chime of transformation as the small squad of veteran warriors shifted into their alt modes and revved their engines.

Jazz shifted lightly on his wheels, "Roll out!" The five Autobots drove in perfect formation down the ruined street.

* * *

Ironhide studied his surroundings silently and felt a vague sadness grow in his spark. The area they were passing through had once been a peaceful residential area for the worker class. Many family units had no doubt lived happily in the now destroyed housing complexes. They drove past an open area filled with bodies and deep craters caused by artillery strikes. His spark twisted painfully when he spotted a climbing apparatus meant to help train sparklings' motor skills. _It was a playground._

His engine growled angrily, _stinking 'Cons! This was a peaceful neutral settlement. There wasn't even anything worth stealing! They just razed it because it was fun and then made a base on its outskirts. Curse those fraggers to the pit!_

A voice only he could hear interrupted his thoughts, _"Hide? You doing all right?"_ Ironhide realized that Chromia must have picked up on his brooding.

He sank slightly on his axles, _"I'm fine, Sweetspark. Just..."_ Ironhide felt his telepathic thought trail off as he studied the destruction that was becoming more and more of a common sight on Cybertron. _Sometimes I wonder if it will ever end,_ he finished silently.

Chromia understood his unfinished message and sent a wave of sympathy and comfort over their bond, _"I know, I do too sometimes. But this war _**_will_**_ end someday, I'm sure of it," _a smile entered her voice, _"and when it does, you and me are going to have a little 'chat' about how sparklings are created."_

Ironhide had to suppress a chuckle as he scanned the area again, vigilant even as he had a conversation with his Bonded, _"I look forward to it My Spark. I'm sure Bumblebee would enjoy having siblings as well."_

The toughened weapons specialist felt pleasure radiate from Chromia briefly at his statement. They both knew how much the other wanted to become a larger family unit. Ironhide was about to state just how many sparklings he would like to 'discuss' when Ratchet opened a com channel with him, ::Enough you two. I can hear your engines purring **most** inappropriately all the way over here. I would advise focusing solely on the mission. Unless it's too much of a bother, of course.::

Ironhide huffed, ::Whatever you say, Hatchet.:: From the far back of the formation, Ironhide could hear Ratchet's engine sputter with rage at the hated nickname.

Mirage cut into the conversation neatly, ::Excuse my interruption please, but did anyone else pick up that reading just now?::

Jazz swerved slightly left and right from his position at the head of the group, ::I got nothin'. What was it Mirage?::

The blue and white mech was silent for a few nano-kliks ::I am not sure, it appeared to be an energon spike. However, it was gone before I could pinpoint it or determine it's exact nature.::

Ironhide asked, ::Any idea of the general direction it was in?::

Mirage's answer was swift, ::Yes, actually. It appeared to be coming from the same direction as the coordinates we are attempting to reach::

Jazz sighed over the com, ::Good work, Mirage. Everybot, keep yo'r scanners primed for an ambush, somethin' don' feel raht about this whole setup.::

Ironhide growled, ::Understood.:: _And if this does turn out to be an ambush of some kind, I get full rights to use my cannons on the slagging Decepticons who ruined this place._

* * *

**Second Author's note: I has occurred to me that I should put up my interpretation of Cybertronian time terms so as to avoid access confusion. If my understanding of the terms are incorrect, I apologize, this was what I could glean from studying other fan fictions and Transformers episodes. This chart isn't a comparison of how time passes between earth and Cybertron, i.e., a ****vorn is eighty-three earth years. It is an equivalent list, for instance, to Cybertronians, a cycle is their version of a day. (At least in this story)**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon. (still not sure on this one)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello! Chapter four is here, I hope you all enjoy it. I haven't received any new reviews, so this non-story section should be short ****and sweet.**

**Author's Note: If any readers here are also reading A Strange Pikachu in a Strange Land, I have just finished writing the next chapter and once I finish editing it, I will post it.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this fan fiction. I only own my OCs and the plot.**

* * *

**Chapter Four: Neither Friend nor Foe**

Afternoon sunlight shone through the skylight sized hole in the ceiling, bathing Starwish in welcome warmth as she stopped to take a break from exploring. The abandoned complex she and her family had woken up in was **massive**. The clock she had discovered inside her head had calculated that their exploratory mission had been going on for joors, something she supposed was like a Cybertronian hour, and they still had been unable to find an exit to the outdoors.

By exit of course, she meant a door. Not a gaping hole in the wall with bodies sprawled in and around it. The twins were obviously having the time of their lives, running back and forth from room to room, searching every nook and cranny for something interesting and new.

She looked up at the jagged, turned-in edges of the sun filled hole and smiled weakly. It was their innocent enthusiasm and cheerful adaption to their new surroundings that was keeping her sane. Starwish knew that if she had woken up with only Hardwire for company or, worse yet, alone, she would still be in the dark command center sobbing and screaming in terror over her predicament.

A cheerful call broke through her thoughts, "Hey Star! Come see what we found!"

Starwish sighed, briefly musing on how it was fascinating that she could still preform the action as a Cybertronian as she called back, "Coming twins!" With mild reluctance, she stepped out of the comforting patch of sun and trotted down the surprisingly intact hall to the room the twins had just disappeared into. She rounded the corner and paused in the door, "What did you two find this ... time. Well scrap."

Zipline kicked his legs furiously as he struggled to climb onto a large metal slab that was comprised of three segmented pieces. Fast Track watched his brother contentedly from the safety of the shockingly clean floor as he answered Starwish, "Don't know. I think it might be a med-bay. Like from the Star Trek movies."

Starwish stepped carefully inside and looked around the room curiously. Fast Track was right, it **did** look like a classic sci-fi medical bay, disturbingly so. Close inspection revealed that the med-bay clean of any bodies, something that surprised her to no end. Zipline gave a frustrated grunt as the metal 'bed' he was attempting to clamber atop continued to defeat his best efforts by its sheer advantage in height.

Absently, Starwish picked Zipline up around the middle and carefully set him onto his goal. While Zipline cheered as if he had done it all himself, Fast Track rushed to his big sister's feet and held up his arms pleadingly in the universal sign for transport. Starwish smiled at him and obliged. When they were both happily perched on the bed, she cautioned them, "Careful up there you two. I'm going to check the other parts of this med-bay."

They nodded obediently, "We'll be careful Star." Satisfied with their promise, Starwish strode across to the far end of the bay and examined the counter. Strange tools were laid out in haphazard orders, testaments to the hasty exit of whoever had once operated the med-bay. Her left hand idly stroked one, _a energon patch applier, still in good condition too._ Her hand froze in place as she realized what she had just thought, _how did I know what this thing is?_ She felt her spark beat a little faster as she studied the other tools, their names and uses popping up in her thought process with terrifying precision and speed.

Starwish retracted her hand sharply and fought off another panic attack, _calm down, calm down, there must be a logical explanation for this. There must be!_ Fast Track's voice innocently asked, "Star? Are you okay?"

Turning away from the table sharply, she found herself staring into two wide pairs of concerned blue optics. Trying to swallow her nervous panic she answered, "Yes, I'm fine ... I just ... are strange Cybertronian terms popping up in your heads that you can suddenly understand?"

Zipline and Fast Track both cocked their heads to one side in consideration of the question. Zip frowned, "What kind of terms?"

Feeling oddly embarrassed but too desperate to resist answering, she said, "I was looking at these tools here and ... I know what they are and what they do."

Fast Track's frown melted away and was replaced by a smile, "Oh! Is that all? Why wouldn't you understand what those things are? You're a medic!"

_A medic?_ Starwish blinked and then whispered, "Oh, yeah..." _I remember now! When I designed the character Starwish, I decided that she would be a medic. I must have some kind of medical programming or something now._ As odd as the thought that she had her fictional character's knowledge sounded, it somehow fit with the entire 'wake up on a fictional planet as a fictional species' situation.

She smiled lopsidedly at the twins, "Thank you for reminding me. I'd forgotten."

Zipline just shrugged, "It's okay, you seem kind of stressed out right now, so it's only natural you forget stuff." Starwish turned back to the medical counter in order to hide her flustered expression, _note to self, they are a lot more observant than they seem._ To help calm down, Starwish picked up one of the tools, a rotary buffer apparently, and examined it closely. Not very surprisingly, it looked identical to the one she had seen Knock Out using on the Transformers Prime TV show. _I wonder if this is one of his. I hope not, he strikes me as the possessive type._

Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall and she whirled nervously, wondering who it was. Hardwire ambled slowly into the med-bay, putting Starwish at ease with a small smirk. The twins waved hello cheerfully, "Hi, Hardwire! Look what we found! It's a med-bay!"

Hardwire nodded congenially, "So I see. Good work on finding it you two."

Fast Track held up the Soundwave toy, "It was Soundwave that pointed it out for us!"

Hardwire didn't miss a beat, striding over he gently patted Soundwave's plushy head before softly rubbing each of the twins with a hand, "In that case, good work to Soundwave for finding it, and good work to you two for exploring it."

Starwish couldn't stop a warm feeling from fluttering through her at how gentle her friend was being despite his massive increase in size. Walking over to the berth the twins were sitting on, she perched on the edge, "Where did you go off too Hardwire? I was starting to worry."

Hardwire shrugged his shoulders, "I wanted to figure out a few things about myself without risk of anyone getting hurt. I made Hardwire a warrior class weapons specialist remember?"

Starwish nodded, "Yes, I remember. So, figure out anything interesting?"

Hardwire grinned broadly, "Oh **yeah**. Watch this, I figured out how to un-subspace a little weapon in my apparent arsenal." Stepping away from them, he extended a hand toward the wall and frowned in concentration. With a startling shifting of gears and metal plating, Hardwire's right hand and lower arm seemed to fold away only to be completely replaced by his 'little weapon'.

Zipline and Fast Track shrieked with boyish joy at seeing such a shiny instrument of mass destruction in the same room as them. Starwish gasped and stepped back in surprise at the sight of the long, sleek silver barrel of a huge gun, "You call that **little**? Hardwire! It's a slagging cannon!"

Hardwire shrugged innocently and folded the weapon back into a hand, "It is little when compared to the back mounted one I first unlocked. Thing nearly knocked me over because I wasn't braced properly to hold it. The one I just showed you is called a Kaonian Sniper Cannon MX-115 by the way. Apparently it's for long range heavy cover fire."

Starwish studied in now normal looking hand ruefully, "Apparently. How did you figure out how to access subspace?"

Hardwire flexed the fingers of his right hand thoughtfully, "I'm not sure how to explain it but ... it felt a bit like reaching into a pocket and pulling out the desired item. Once you select the item you want and 'pull it out' so to speak, it will appear and replace whatever limb it was modified to. Why don't you try it?"

Starwish nodded and worked on ignoring the twins' excited grunts as they tried to access subspace as well. Looking down, Starwish stared at her hands and imagined reaching into a pocket. At first, nothing happened. But then, without warning, she felt a strange quiver in her right hand and lower arm. A small message appeared in the center of her vision, 'surgical saw selected'. A sequence of mechanical notes sounded as her right arm from the elbow down shifted and smoothed out, her hand disappearing in favor of a menacingly sharp buzz saw.

Silence fell over the med-bay at the sight of the glittering silver blade. Starwish raised it slightly higher and turned it so she could see its flat side, "Um..." Experimentally, she tried wiggling her fingers, wondering if her hand was inside the buzz saw's handle somehow. Her fingers, wherever they were, didn't respond. The buzz saw did. It powered on and started spinning with a menacing whine of sheer cutting power.

Hardwire jumped back in surprise, "Whoa! Easy with that thing Star!" Starwish stopped trying to wiggle her fingers and the saw powered down with a slightly disappointed sounding hum. _Note to self, medics have very sharp potential weapons. Handle with care._

She looked up at Hardwire, "How do I put this thing away?"

Zipline squawked indignantly, "Put it away? Why would you do that? You haven't even cut anything to shreds yet!"

Starwish gave him a stern look, "I'm sure I'll have time for that later, but right now I want my hand back."

Hardwire eyed the blade cautiously as he answered, "Same as how you pulled it out. Put it back in your pocket." Starwish nodded her understanding and stared hard at the buzz saw. _Put it back in my pocket ... put it back in my pocket ... put it-_ the buzz saw disappeared with a small chime. _Thank goodness._

Starwish smiled up at Hardwire, "Well, I guess now I know what to do it we run into anything unfriendly."

Fast Track whined pitifully, "This is so unfair! Why can't we pull weapons out of our arms like that?" The small red and grey boy was staring unconsolably at his hands.

Starwish gently rubbed his shoulder, "Aw, it's okay Track. Maybe you just don't have anything in your subspace yet. I'm sure you'll learn how to do this stuff in no time." Zipline looked about to protest when his middle made a loud grinding noise. All four of them stared at the noisy midriff in surprise.

Holding a hand to his middle thoughtfully, Zipline declared, "I'm hungry." Fast Track immediately nodded in agreement. Starwish suddenly became aware of hunger pangs in her own stomach ... tanks ... whatever.

She looked worriedly up at Hardwire, her expression said just how high she thought their chances of finding energon in a place like this were. Or their ability to actually consume it. Hardwire frowned, it was obvious that he was having similar thoughts. Zipline's stomach growled again and he made an unhappy face, "Really, **really** hungry."

Hardwire made a clearing noise in his throat, "We'll go look for some food for you two. Why don't you stay here and take a recharge while we search?"

Fast Track made an irritable noise, his mood rapidly deteriorating as he became hungrier and hungrier, "Don' wanna recharge! Wanna eat!"

Starwish realized that she would have to think fast if she wanted to stop the impending temper tantrum, "You'll get it. But to make time go faster, why don't you just curl up here with Zip, Soundwave, and Prowl and take a recharge. You know time always goes faster when you're offline."

Fast Track looked up at her calculatingly for several seconds before nodding, "Guess so." On a mental consensus only he and his twin could hear, they curled up together on the metal berth like two lost puppies. Their favorite toys squished firmly between them.

Fast Track closed his eyes immediately, but Zipline paused long enough to mutter, "You sound kinda strange when you talk like a Cyber ... Cybertronian ... saying recharge instead of recharge..." His eyes fluttered shut and Starwish watched as the twins began to immediately fall asleep.

She and Hardwire tiptoed out of the med-bay and looked at each other in concern. Hardwire whispered, "You know, he's actually on to something. Have you noticed that when we talk, we use a lot of Cybertronian terms?"

Starwish cocked her head to one side, thinking about this, "Now that you bring it up, yes. We have been using mostly Cybertronian terms. I wonder why?"

Hardwire shook his head, "Not a concern right now. We need to find energon for the twins and ourselves. I just got a message that said something about my 'energy levels being low'." Starwish nodded and they took off down an unexplored hall in search of something to eat. _Please let us find something. Please..._

* * *

Jazz crouched behind cover, peering silently at the looming hole in the wall of the seemingly abandoned Decepticon base. It **looked** empty enough. But Jazz had learned long ago to never trust first appearances. Keeping to the intercom to help prevent anyone from listening in, he whispered, ::All right mechs an' femme. Here's how it's gonna go down. 'Hide, Ratch', you two'll take the west section o' tha base. Chromia, Mirage, you two'll take tha south. Ah'll take tha east and we'll meet back at this entrance 'fore scoping out tha north. Ya'll dig thah?::

Chromia and Ironhide both rumbled unhappily at being separated, but they understood Jazz's angle. Mirage was not a violent or combat prone mech. He was a master at stealth, but if he was somehow spotted by any 'Cons that might be hiding inside the base, he would need the best backup he could get. Ie, Chromia, because she was small enough to go unnoticed most of the time, but big enough to pack a painful punch.

A similar logic paired Ironhide with Ratchet. While the medic could hold his own with his two lethal blades, Ironhide's heavy cannons would be invaluable to the medic if he found himself in a fight. As for Jazz ... well, he was Jazz, enough said.

A round of quiet affirmatives sounded over the intercom and Jazz paused long enough to smirk, ::Okay then, Autobots, le's start tha recon.:: He bounced up lightly and scurried for his chosen entry point, a small hole to the left of the one Ironhide and the others would be taking.

No painfully loud alarm klaxons went off when Jazz lightly jumped through the hole and rolled to the nearest cover, acid pellet gun primed and ready for action. Peeking around a jagged piece of broken metal, he swept his optics and scanners up and down the silent hall. ::Clear. Come on ahead.:: In swift pairs, the rest of his team darted through the entrance and scanned the area, weapons out in case of ambush. The offlined frames of Decepticons were their only greeting and the Autobots exchanged quick nods before cautiously setting off down their chosen hallways.

Jazz crept slowly and carefully down the dimly lit corridor, his optics sweeping alertly in every direction. His pedes made no discernible noise as he stepped around and over debris and fallen warriors. The silence was unnerving, heavy. Just like it always was when he had to search through an ended battlefield for something. It always seemed to Jazz as if the offline mechs on the ground around were glaring at him in disapproval for disturbing their rest. _Or because I'm an Autobot. Either one._

Secretly, he wished he could listen to his favorite playlist while he searched. The cheerful electric trills would no doubt help to banish the gloomy stillness all around. Oh well, he could listen to it when he got back to base. A scanner in his visor beeped, the sound only audible to Jazz. The saboteur paused in his careful room checking to read the scanner's findings._ Trace energon signals. Someone was here recently. Or still is._

Holding a finger up to his right audial sensor, he intercommed, ::Heads up 'bots. Ah'm pickin' up trace signals. Recent from less than a joor ago.::

Mirage whispered back, ::I am getting a reading as well. Whoever they are, they were searching the base thoroughly.::

Ironhide rumbled, ::Or still are, some of these Vehicon frames have been disturbed.::

The searchers fell silent again and Jazz continued his recon, using his scanner to track the faint energon traces. Inwardly, Jazz wondered if he was following the trail of a Decepticon or whoever was responsible for the energy surge. _Find out soon enough I suppose._ The trace split into two separate trails and Jazz paused, _or not. Scrap, which one do I follow?_ ::More then one mechs an' femme. Ah just picked up anotha' signal. 'Hide, Ratch, it looks like one of 'em was headed in yo'r direction. Ah'll track down tha otha' one.::

Ratchet answered his com, ::Understood, Jazz. Be careful.::

Jazz faceplates twitched upwards in a smirk, ::Always am, Ratch.:: He turned left down another corridor, following the energon trace only a special-ops issue visor could track. ::Always am.::

* * *

Zipline felt his body jerk awake and grunted softly. His eyes opened and he looked around fuzzily. _Where?_ He started to call for Starwish when a small metal hand clamped over his mouth. He felt roiling distress in his spark as a terrified voice whispered, "Don' mo, so on he." Zipline held perfectly still as the rest of his newly attained systems came fully online.

Gently nudging Fast Track's hand from his mouth, he cocked his head to one side and listened. Footsteps thumped in the distance, drawing steadily closer to the med-bay. Glancing at his brother, he said silently, _"That doesn't sound like Hardwire."_

Fast Track shook his head, his optics wide with fear, _"I know. I think someone else is in this place."_

Zipline felt himself growing excited, _"Decepticons do you think?"_

His brother whined softly and clutched Prowl, _"I hope not!"_

Zipline shook his head stubbornly and sent a wave of confidence to his twin as the footsteps drew ever nearer, _"Don't worry, we can take them on if they try to attack."_ Looking around he pointed at the floor, _"Let's hide under the berth nearest the door, that way we can ambush them if we need too."_

Fast Track didn't appear to be too keen on the idea at first, but Zipline's total confidence reassured him and soon the two where huddled under a berth, waiting eagerly to spring their trap on the unsuspecting strangers. Zipline crouched closest to the doorway, watching it with narrowed eyes and a fast beating spark. The footfalls were very close now, close enough that he could feel the floor tremble slightly under the weight of each step. _Maybe it's Megatron himself!_ He couldn't help but smile excitedly at that, what a fight it would be if they ambushed Megatron!

The owner of the heavy steps paused and Zipline heard a guttural whisper, "I'll check right, you check left." Someone else responded quietly and the twins watched with barely contained excitement as huge black metal feet and legs slowly crept into sight. Zipline felt like his spark would burst from his chest with anticipation. _Almost there!_

* * *

Ironhide tensed, something wasn't right. His instincts were screaming 'ambush!'. Pressing his back against the wall, he listened intently at the open doorway. He quickly checked the schematics that the Autobots had acquired their first time inside. _Med-bay huh? Good spot for a surprise if I ever saw one._ He inched closer and quickly risked a peak inside. Empty. His cannons whirred softly in preparation for anything as he cautiously began inching inside, optics sweeping every visible corner of the bay for signs of Decepticons.

A faint scuff noise sounded from underneath one of the berths and he stopped and swung his cannons towards the sound. He growled dangerously as he thought he spotted something move underneath the nearest berth, "Who's there?"

Of all the responses he could have prepared himself for, a muffled giggle was not one of them. _What the slag?_ "I know you're there. Come out with your servos up and I won't have an excuse to blast you." Two blurs of motion shot out from under the berth with high pitched war cries and tackled his legs. Ironhide roared in surprise, his right cannon going off and vaporizing a sizable chunk of wall as he staggered backwards in an attempt to put distance between himself and his attackers.

His back plating caught the roughened edge on the doorway, causing him to lose his balance and fall with a ground shaking crash. Two tiny forms swarmed up his body, still shouting unintelligible battle cries. Reacting instinctively, his servos whipped out and caught his attackers firmly by their shoulders and neck plating. Lifting them up with the intention of banging their helms together, he froze when he realized exactly what he was holding.

The two small frames, one green and grey, one red and grey, snarled and squeaked angrily. Their legs kicking in a frantic attempt to break free from his grasp. Identical pairs of big blue optics glowered at him from tiny silver face plates. Ironhide felt his processor come within a microchip of glitching as he lay sprawled out on the ground with two yelling, protesting balls of wires and rage in his servos.

His servos went slack and they dropped to the ground. Without pausing a beat, his attackers swarmed up his body to sit triumphantly on his chest. The green and grey mini-bot was smirking at the slack-jawed expression on his faceplates, "Surrender? Or do you want more?"

_Younglings... they're fragging younglings!_ The data was just too much to handle on his own, he needed someone to sort this out, make sure he wasn't having some kind of holographic flux. There was simply no way any younglings could be in a Decepticon base. Even an abandoned one. Ironhide roared over the com, ::Ratchet! **Ratchet**!:: Worry from Chromia was flooding his sparkmate bond as intercom queries piled up in his head.

Ratchet tore around the corner at top speed, his double blades fully drawn and ready to cut. "Yah!"

Startled, the two younglings scrambled backwards, falling off of Ironhide's chest plating, "Aahh!"

Ironhide's parental subroutines kicked in and he caught to two younglings with an alarmed grunt. ::Hold it Hatchet!:: The use of the hated nickname and Ironhide's frantic catch to save his 'attackers' caused Ratchet to stop his wild charge and take full stock of the situation.

Ratchet's optics slowly widened and Ironhide watched with a sort of vacant amusement as the normally unshakable medic froze and went completely slack jawed when he realized what his friend was holding. Ironhide slowly sat up and carefully set the wide opticed younglings on his lap, "So, you see 'em too, eh?"

Ratchet's engine sputtered, "How ... how ... where?"

The red and grey one looked up at the medic from the safety of Ironhide's lap and cried, "Hey! I know you! You're Prime's medic!" Ratchet blinked unhelpfully.

The green and grey one who had first spoken to Ironhide nodded, "Yeah! You're Ratchet!" The two then looked up at Ironhide curiously, their adorable faces melting the old weapons specialist's spark into a protective puddle of energon goo, "So who are you? I don't remember seeing you on the vids."

Instincts honed by raising Bumblebee kicked in and he said gently, "My designation is Ironhide. What is yours?"

The red one beamed at hearing Ironhide's name, "Ironhide! I've always wanted to meet you! My de- desig- I'm called Fast Track!"

The green youngling said seriously, "I'm Zipline, sir."

Ratchet finally found his voice, cutting off whatever Ironhide had wanted to say in return to Zipline's greeting, "What are **younglings** doing in a **Decepticon base**? Hold still and let me scan you!" The two held mostly still as Ratchet scanned them, but Fast Track fidgeted as the data collecting beam swept through his body.

"Tickles." He muttered unhappily. Ironhide gently rubbed the crest on Fast Track's helm comfortingly, eliciting a purr of delight from the small mechling.

Ironhide took the brief respite provided by Ratchet's scanning to sooth Chromia over their bond and answer the inquiring intercoms still coming over his systems, ::I'm fine. Just startled is all.::

Chromia snapped angrily, ::Startled by what Ironhide?::

Ironhide couldn't hide the awe in his voice as he looked down at the two squirming mechlings and answered, ::Younglings.:: A shocked silence fell over the com.

Mirage finally whispered, ::Younglings? Here? How on Cybertron did they end up in an abandoned Decepticon base?::

Ratchet gave a bitter response, ::Most likely came here looking for energon. Their systems have almost gone dry from deprivation.:: Speaking out loud to the younglings, Ratchet said, "Off of Ironhide you two. I need to take you back to base immediately."

Zipline crossed his arms over his chest plating, "So our prisoner can escape? No way!"

Ratchet scowled in confusion, "Prisoner? What prisoner?"

Zipline motioned casually to the mech he was currently perched on, "Him, of course. We're Decepticons this metacycle. We ambushed him, knocked him down, and he surrendered. Our prisoner now."

Fast Track nodded, his expression saying that **everyone** should already be aware of the rules he and his brother were laying down "Yeah, if you want us to let him up or go anywhere, you have to give us something valuable in trade."

Silence hung like a grim reaper over the four bots. Ratchet intercommed softly, ::Primus help us.:: and Ironhide felt like he was going to purge his tanks. _Decepticons? They think they're Decepticons?_ Even though Ratchet must have been feeling the same horror as Ironhide, he kept his face neutral, "Valuable like ... what exactly?"

The two glanced at each other before shrugging. Zipline said calmly, "You know ... valuable stuff."

Ratchet slowly crouched down and un-subspaced two med-grade energon cubes. The younglings' optics were instantly focused on the glowing blue liquid inside the cubes. Holding a cube in each servo, Ratchet asked, "Would you be willing to trade Ironhide for these?"

The two mechlings moved so swiftly that Ironhide hadn't even realized they'd left his lap until he saw them sitting on the floor in front of him with an energon cube each. Zipline studied the blue liquid intently before nodding and saying, "It's a deal. Ironhide's yours." If such a comical occurrence had happened any other cycle, Ironhide was sure he never would have heard the end of it. But right now, all he could think about was how the two innocent, energetic little mechlings had just declared themselves to be Decepticons for the metacycle. Declared it proudly no less!

Rage bubbled in his spark, _I'm going to offline whoever dared to try and twist those younglings to Megatron's side!_ A startled squeal briefly broke through his thoughts, "Ah! Buzzy, buzzy, buzzy!" Fast Track bounced slightly from excitement at his first sip of the downgraded energon.

Zipline was bouncing too, delight shining from his optics, "It tastes so sweet! I didn't know it would taste so sweet!" Ratchet made a strangled coughing noise and Ironhide forced himself to swallow the energon that had just surged from his tanks into his mouth. _How can they thing _**_med-grade_**_ tastes sweet? What have the Decepticons even been feeding them?_ Just when Ironhide would have thought the day couldn't get any more stressful, rage surged through his bond with Chromia and her voice barked over the intercom, ::Con! Slagger just ducked around the corner but I got him in the leg first. In pursuit now!::

Ironhide surged to his pedes as Ratchet yelled back, ::Take him alive Chomia! He may have answers about the younglings!:: Ratchet glared at Ironhide and stepped in front of the mech before he could go barreling off, "Oh no you don't! The last thing we need is for you to blast a potential information source! You're going to stay here and keep an optic on these two! **I'll** help Chromia." Ironhide snarled in protest as Ratchet took off in the direction of Chromia and Mirage.

"What'd he go running off for?" Ironhide looked down at Zipline and Fast Track and felt his parental subroutines take over.

He took a deep breath to soothe himself and said, "Nothing you have to worry about. A friend of ours just found something interesting is all."

* * *

Hardwire gasped in pain as he tried to stumble further down the hall, his mind clouded with panic and the agony rippling up from his leg. He had been investigating the lower levels of what he had long since concluded to be an abandoned Decepticon base when he'd heard a loud boom from above. Fearing the worst for the twins, he had started to run back the way he had come only to round the corner and be shot at by a blue and white female transformer.

She had fired again, but Hardwire had managed to duck behind the corner and start making a run for it. _Guess all of those Call of Duty sessions paid off._ Another shot of pain seared up his leg, accompanied by a warning message about how further motion could cause extra damage to the injured limb. Call of Duty clearly hadn't paid off enough to spare him from injury. He had been running for the next corner to hide behind when the pursuing female had fired again and hit his right leg, ripping open its side and sending energon pouring freely down.

Another warning sign popped up in his vision, Energon levels: Critical. Refuel required or system will shut down. _That doesn't sound too good._ Something tackled him roughly from behind and he fell with a loud crash and a howl of pain. He heard the unmistakable whine of a blaster powering up somewhere behind him and bucked wildly in an attempt to escape.

He had a larger frame than his attacker, but he didn't have the experience to back the advantage up. A hand swiftly grabbed some of the exposed cables of his neck and pinched lightly, effectively paralyzing him from the neck down. Hardwire fell back to the floor and lay still with a clang, his spark beating hard with panic, head swimming from pain, and his frame heaving with shuddering gasps as his system tried to cool down.

Light footsteps came to stop just to the left of his head and a female voice grated out angrily, "Nice going Mirage, now move so I can shoot the fragger." Hardwire weakly summoned just enough strength to turn his head slightly and stare up at his intended executioner. Ice blue optics met his, their depths holding so much hatred and rage, any thought of speaking vanished from his mind. He could only lie there helplessly and watch his own death.

A crisp voice with a somehow english accent scolded sternly, "Ratchet specifically stated to capture this one alive. He may have valuable information about the younglings Ironhide found." _Younglings? Zip! Track!_

A soft whine of worry for the twins escaped his vocalizer and unfortunately attracted the fierce female's attention, "Stop whining, slagger, or I'll give you something to whine about. As for you, Mirage, who said I'd kill him? I intend to give him a whole lot of good reasons not to kidnap innocent younglings and raise them as Decepticons."

_What? Decepticons? Why would they think Zip and Track are Decepticons? Why do they think _**_I'm_**_ a Decepticon? I guess this means they're Autobots at least..._ Hardwire felt his thoughts trail off, but was suddenly too tired to care or get them back. His vision was becoming unfocused and blurred. He felt like he was slowly slipping into a dark, cold pool. _At least my leg doesn't hurt anymore..._

Hardwire became dimly aware that he was now lying on his back. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember rolling over. Maybe someone had done it for him? Large blurs of color faded in and out of his vision as someone started shouting far away. Whoever was shouting was saying something about, 'stasis lock' and 'I'm losing him'. _Losing who? I hope it isn't anyone important._ An electric tingle ran through his chest, steadily trying to drag him away from the cold feeling that was enveloping him.

Reluctantly, he followed the electric tug a short ways, if only to get it to leave him alone. He really wanted to sleep. How long had it been since he slept? He couldn't remember. Hardwire's optics fluttered shut as he slid into stasis lock, completely oblivious to the irate medic working frantically to stabilize him and keep him out of energon shock.

* * *

Starwish ran down the halls, a horrible feeling of fear throbbing in her chest. That explosion had been very loud, and sounded like it was coming from the direction of the med-bay. What if Decepticons had come and were attacking the twins even now? She would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to them because she hadn't been there to protect them. Vague memories of fire and screaming rose to the fore and she struggled to push them down.

_Focus! I've got to get to-_ She slammed into something and went sprawling. Starwish cried out in surprise as her bottom hit the floor and her equilibrium was thrown for a loop. A voice above her said, "Whoa the'a little femme! Where yah runnin' off ta like thah?"

Starwish opened her eyes and found herself staring into the light blue visor of an unmistakable silver mech. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a tiny, shocked 'o'. _It can't be._ The mech cocked his head to one side and smiled easily down at her as he extended a hand to help her up, "You okay, little femme? Didn' knock som'thin' loose in your processa' did yah?"

Feeling somehow like this had to all be a weird dream, she took his extended hand and let him pull her to her feet. His hand was surprisingly warm and gentle for such a talon like appearance. Still staring at his visor she whispered shyly, "I ... I don't think so."

Jazz, it simply had to be him, nodded amiably, "Thah's good. Wha's a pretty thing like you doin' in a place like this anyhow?"

Ignoring the, most likely, unintentional pick-up line, Starwish stammered, "I- I don't know. I woke up here joors ago and was looking for energon for the twi-" she suddenly remembered why she'd been running, "The twins!" She bolted again, her spark hammering wildly as three more shots rang out in rapid succession in the distance. _No, no, no, no, no! Please let them be all right!_

Rapid footfalls clattered against the metal floor as Jazz caught up with her and grabbed at her arm, "Take it easy the-ow!" Startled and already completely stressed, Starwish had whirled and slapped Jazz hard on the face.

She screamed irately, "Let me go!"

Jazz stubbornly held onto her arm, "Now jus' listen hear femme-" Something inside Starwish snapped completely. She abruptly stopped seeing the mech holding her arm as 'Jazz the Autobot' and saw him only as a thing that was keeping her from defending her twins.

She reached into her right hand 'pocket' of subspace and whipped out the surgical buzz saw she had discovered earlier, "I said, let. Me. **Go**!" The saw whined menacingly as she swung it violently at the hand holding her arm.

The 'obstruction' leapt backwards with a startled, "**Whoa**!" Letting go of her arm to keep from loosing his hand. Thus freed, Starwish took off down the hall, oblivious to anything else but finding and defending her family.

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon. (still not sure on this one)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello everybody! Here is the next chapter! I think it may be the longest one to date on this site, but hey, more to read in one go, right?**

**Review Response: Dear Shadow fang the black wolf, hi! Thank you for reviewing and yes, beware the buzz saw, it is very sharp.**

**Dear Savvy Orion childofcommander, hello! Thank you for the review! Yes, I had fun making Ironhide think that the twins were being 'turned to the dark side' per say, but I felt bad for the repercussions it wrought on poor Hardwire. Starwish is a fun character to write because she can be very ****paradoxical. While normally she is very shy around strangers, she is loving and fun with her family and genuinely terrifying whenever she believes that family to be threatened. Of course, having a killer buzz saw helps that last part. Thank you! You are very kind, here is another chapter that I sincerely hope you enjoy.**

**Author's Note: A new character in being introduced in this chapter. Generation 1 First Aid, only less boxy. Try to imagine him as a Transformers Prime style First Aid with G1 colors and personality. Again, please let me know if I portray him out of character. The way I write him in this chapter is the impression I got from studying his Wiki page. Also, this chapter marks my first attempt to tell a story within a story.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made within this story (including Star Trek). The only things I own are my OCs and the plot.**

* * *

**Chapter Five: Finding Sides**

Jazz ran down the corridor, following the positively fritzed out femme at a safe distance. _I've been slapped by femme's before. But being threatened with a _**_surgical saw_**_ by one is new._ Jazz commed ahead hastily, ::Whoeva' is guardin' those younglin's, their carria' is headin' yo'r way. She's armed with a buzz saw and fraggin' ticked enough to use it.::

Ironhide commed back, ::Understood, Jazz. How soon 'till she gets here?::

Jazz mentally calculated several variables before answering, ::'bout a breem.:: He paused, remembered the crazed look in her two different colored optics, and added another warning, ::Take mah advice 'Hide. Jus' get tha Pit out o' her way when yah see her. Ah don' think she's too stable in tha processa' right now.::

The femme tore around the corner and Jazz heard a loud clatter of metal that signified Ironhide jumping out of the way. Jazz swiftly took the turn and skidded to a stop. The small white femme was kneeling in front of two confused looking younglings and hugging them protectively with one arm while pointing her buzz saw warningly at Ironhide. The weapons specialist, for his part, was making a point to stand a good distance away from the mechlings and hide his cannons. The sound of Jazz's sliding stop made her optics snap over to him and point the buzz saw menacingly.

Jazz held up his servos so that she could see he wasn't armed and took a step backwards, "Easy the'a, femme. We ain't gonna hurt your younglin's. Ah promise. We're here ta help yah." Red and blue optics flickered nervously from 'bot to 'bot. Clearly unsure on whether to believe him or not.

One of the mechlings, a small red and grey one touched his carrier's arm gently, "Star? You okay? Those are Autobots, Star. We've got nothing to fear from them."

The second one nodded in agreement, "Yeah, it's Ironhide and Jazz. You're favorites from the movie-vids." 'Star' didn't respond to her younglings' gentle words. She was still glaring at the two Autobots warningly.

The first one whimpered, "Star ... you're scaring me, say something..." It his fearful whisper that finally provoked a reaction.

Blinking her optics several times and shaking her helm, she turned away from the mechs and subspaced her saw. Star wrapped both arms around the younglings and crooned softly, "I'm sorry twins. I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just that when I heard that explosion, I was afraid you might have been hurt."

Jazz quietly averted his optics from the tender family moment as the femme called Star nuzzled her younglings gently. Across the hall, Ironhide slowly relaxed, ::Well, that could have gone much worse. If she'd been Chromia we'd both be smears of energon on the floor by now.::

Chromia jumped into the conversation, she sounded tense ::Is ... is their carrier a Decepticon?::

Jazz raised his optics briefly back to where the two mechlings were proudly showing Star two energon cubes Ratchet must have given them, ::Not likely, Ah don' see their symbol anywhere on her. Don' see any Autobot marks either. She must be a neutral.::

Chromia sounded bitter, ::Sure, a neutral who's younglings claim to be Decepticons? That makes loads of sense.::

Ratchet interrupted, ::Younglings are impressionable, in this area they are bound to have seen Megatron's propaganda vids. If they're carrier is a neutral then they were most likely copying things they overheard, especially if they were separated from their carrier and she couldn't censor what they saw and heard. Hopefully, that was all there was behind their words. Jazz, see if you can coax her into coming with us back to base, if the energy levels of her younglings is anything to go by, she'll need emergency treatment soon. Ironhide, get down here and help me carry this Decepticon outside.::

Ironhide frowned disapprovingly, ::You caught him then?::

Ratchet's voice oozed sarcasm, ::More like your sparkmate shot him in the leg and he nearly offlined from energon deprived shock. This mech poses no danger at the moment and he **could** have valuable intel. So get down here and help me with him!::

Ironhide shot a hooded look at the floor as if he could see straight through it at Ratchet before clomping off. The sound of Ironhide's departure re-alerted Star to the presence of strangers and Jazz inwardly braced himself for anything. Looking up from the twins, she glanced briefly at Ironhide's retreating frame before turning her strange gaze to Jazz, "Where is he going?" _Not freaking out again, yet. Good._

Jazz shrugged, keeping his movements as slow and casual as he dared, "Our medic needed 'is help liftin' somethin'." Leaning his weight onto one leg, he asked calmly, "It's startin' ta get late. Don' suppose yah'd like ta come hang at tha base with us? Boss bot would take good care of yah. You and your younglin's would get some more ta eat too."

Her silver face plates slid into a small, uneasy smile, "I … would like that." Standing up, she glanced at the floor before looking up at him, "I need to find Hardwire before we leave though."

Jazz didn't let the sudden feeling of dread that had developed in his spark show, "Sure, Ah'll help yah look. Wha's he look like?"

She frowned and rubbed her younglings helms absentmindedly, "Uh, very tall, pale green armor with a scar on his left shoulder, and-" she broke off briefly and Jazz could tell she was suddenly scared, "and red optics." She finished quietly. Jazz felt his spark drop into his pedes, _Oh, slag._

He nodded, "Hang on a nano-klik, Ah'll ask tha others if they've seen 'im." She nodded her assent and Jazz hastily activated his com, ::Ratch, tell meh thah tha 'Con Chromia shot wasn't tall, green, an' had a scar on his left shoulder plate. Please.::

There was an unbearably long silence that confirmed Jazz's fears even before Ratchet answered guardedly, ::Yes, he is and he does. Why?::

Jazz bit back a groan, ::Cause this femme is askin' for him. She won' go back ta base wit' us 'less he comes too.::

There was another silence in which Jazz was fairly certain everyone was thinking the same thing, _scrap_. Ratchet asked carefully, ::Uh ... what is her relation to this mech?:: Jazz knew the reasoning behind the question. If 'Hardwire' was her sparkmate and Chromia had nearly offlined him, the femme would go into a fighting rage guarantied.

Jazz looked over at Star and asked, "Our medic wan's ta know if yo'r related ta Hardwire."

She looked mildly suspicious at the question, "He's my brother ... why does he ask?"

Jazz shrugged and quickly commed Ratchet, ::He's her brotha'. Now what, Ratch? If Ah tell her that Chromia tried ta smoke him, she'll go on tha fritz again.::

Ratchet sighed over the com, ::No idea, you'd better think of something though. Because we're almost to your location with him.::

Jazz did groan this time. Rolling his head back he glared at the ceiling. Star's voice sounded decidedly panicky, "What? What's happened to Hardwire?"

Thinking quickly, Jazz snapped his head back into position and gave 'calm down' motion with his hands, "Nothin' serious. Chromia, a femme on mah team, jus' got startled by him an' nicked 'im in tha leg is all. Ratch gave 'im a sedative so we can take him ta our base an' fix 'im up good as new."

Apparently, Star either knew who Chromia was or didn't believe his 'just a scratch' line. Her optics widened and she whispered, "Oh no." Her tone sounded so spark broken Jazz had to resist the urge to hug her. She had a sparkmate out there somewhere after all. A sparkmate who certainly wouldn't appreciate a strange mech hugging his bonded.

Jazz did allow himself to step closer and say soothingly, "Easy, your brotha' is fine. Jus' in stasis is all. But yah need ta come with us ta our base for yo'r younglin's' safety. Dig?"

She looked directly at his visor and Jazz almost wondered if she could see through it and into his optics. Star took a deep intake of air and vented it slowly, "Okay. We'll come. But Hardwire had better be alright." Her younglings chorused angrily in agreement from their relative safety by her side.

Jazz nodded seriously and intentionally banished his accent, "I swear on my spark, Ratchet will take good care of your brother."

He saw confusion flicker through her mismatched optics at his sudden lack of slang. But then he saw the confusion be replaced by total trust, "I believe you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Time Jump ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joors later, when the two moons of Cybertron hung high in the sky for all to see, Jazz dragged himself to his quarters in a state of near-exhaustion. The cycle had been, on the whole, a total disaster. The femme, who'd finally introduced herself as Starwish, had gone berserk when she'd seen the state of her 'con brother and tried to open up Chromia with her buzz saw for hurting him.

Chromia, of course, had not taken the threat well at all and had nearly offlined the hysterical femme in retaliation. The two had stopped only when Ironhide had gotten between the them physically. An act which earned the mech a deep cut on one arm from the saw and a large dent on the other from Chromia's wayward punch.

Shocked by Ironhide's intervention and her subsequent wounding of his arm, Starwish had completely broken down into tears and apologies before suddenly shutting down and going into stasis lock. This, naturally, had sent her twin younglings into a total state of panic that was only calmed when Mirage caught them and Ratchet sedated them.

Ratchet had then declared that all four newcomers were dangerously far into the symptoms of energon deprivation and insisted they be rushed back to base with all possible speed. Because there was no way of carrying all four safely across the vast distance back to friendly territory in vehicle mode, they had ended up calling for an aerial evacuation. Their shuttle was then ambushed by Decepticons halfway into the flight and they had all sustained mild damage defending the shuttle from a pack of Vehicons.

When they had **finally** arrived safely back at the base, Mirage and Jazz had been forced to do the debriefing by themselves as Ratchet wouldn't even consider anything other than his new patients, Ironhide had needed go to med-bay so First Aid could fix his wounds, and Chromia had flat out refused to leave her sparkmate's side.

Now, as Jazz stumbled into his quarters and collapsed upon his berth with a grateful wince, it dimly occurred to him that they never did find out what caused the energon surge. He mentally shrugged, _couldn't really be helped though. Maybe Starwish or her brother know something about it._ With that matter settled for the time being, Jazz's systems began powering down for a much needed rest. Just before they shut down fully though, Jazz found his mind wandering to the new femme Starwish. _Strange optics ... really pretty though. Different, but really pretty._ He heaved one last sigh before his recharge protocols claimed him completely and he drifted off into a world of soothing blackness.

* * *

Hardwire cracked his eyes open as reality crept in on him with all of the subtlety of a giant sledge hammer. Said hammer woke him up by ever so lovingly pounding his lower right leg over and over, sending waves of discomfort and pain through the rest of his body like an ocean tide. Hardwire bit back a scream as he came fully awake and thus fully aware of the pain. _Where am I? Why does my leg hurt so bad?_

Hardwire tried to sit up and look around, only to realize he was strapped down firmly. _What the?_ Memories rushed back to him in a sudden torrent. The gas leak, the truck, the explosion, waking up in a strange place, getting shot by the blue and white female transformer, everything.

He groaned, _I must have passed out. But why am I restrained?_ Another blow from the imaginary sledge hammer radiated up his leg and Hardwire yowled in agony, his back arching against the restraints in a futile attempt to escape the pain. As his back settled against the metal slab he was tied too, he heard a door open and someone come running in.

A voice that sounded oddly familiar said, "Hold still. This will only take a nano-klik." A firm hand pushed down on his shoulder and Hardwire felt something small and sharp pierce him underneath his armor plating. He hissed in pain and brief panic, his eyes snapping up to look at whoever was doing the procedure.

A silver face and blue eyes stared sternly out from mostly white helm with orange accents. Hardwire blinked and held perfectly still out of surprise as the pain in his leg faded to a dull throb. Ratchet, it couldn't be anyone else, nodded in seeming satisfaction, "There, that should keep you quiet for a while." The obvious medic frowned thoughtfully, "Strange that your system cycled through the anesthetic so quickly..."

Hardwire blinked at the newcomer again, _I wonder if I should laugh or cry about this entire mess._ Deciding that neither would be a good idea at the moment, Hardwire watched in a half disbelieving silence as the famous character from a TV series bustled around the room, muttering things in a low tone. The medic abruptly stepped out of Hardwire's line of sight with a swish of the door, causing the young man to search for something else to hold his attention.

Craning his head to the left, he saw that he was connected to a host of medical monitors that he could only begin to guess the purpose of. Looking to his right, he watched in morbid fascination as a glowing blue liquid he assumed was energon dripped slowly down a long clear tube and into his arm. _Throw in Doctor Mccoy saying 'he's not dead Jim' and I'd have the perfect setup for a movie. Minus the part where I'm an alien robot of course._

The door slid open again and Ratchet returned to where Hardwire lay, helpless on the berth, with a glowing cube in his hands. Ratchet's blue eyes, _optics_ Hardwire mentally corrected, studied him suspiciously for several seconds before he said, "I'm going to adjust the berth so that you can sit up while I give you this. Understood?"

Hardwire nodded meekly, figuring that a submissive silence was his best option at the moment until he fully figured out what was going on. Ratchet reached under the berth with one hand and Hardwire had to resist the urge to jump against his restraints when the part of the berth supporting his upper back began to tilt upwards. When the berth had been positioned so that Hardwire was in a mostly sitting position, Ratchet flicked another switch. Hardwire felt the strong metal bands holding his arms down retract and he looked up at Ratchet curiously.

Offering him the cube and ignoring his puzzled look, Ratchet said, "All right. Now sip slowly on this, I don't want to have to clean up a mess because you got greedy and tried to guzzle."

Hardwire nodded again as he took the cube gingerly from Ratchet. He stared thoughtfully at the glowing substance inside for a second before lifting it to his lips and sipping tentatively. A sweet, energetic taste flooded his senses and he jerked back with a surprised gasp. If he had ever taken a guess as to what energon might taste like, **this** was not it. Its taste was incomparable to any earth food he had ever tasted. It was clean like water, but sweet and cloying like candy. It was tasteless, yet spicy. Thinking slightly on the taste made him realize that it reminded him strangely of copper and pennies somehow.

"What is the matter? Your not getting sick in your tanks are you?" Hardwire was jerked out of his thoughts by Ratchet's voice. The Autobot medic looked and sounded genuinely concerned.

Hardwire shook his head and dared to speak to Ratchet for the first time, "No ... the taste just surprised me is all." He raised the cube to his lips and sipped again, eager to experience the strange taste again. His stomach, or tank he supposed was the term, grumbled loudly at how slowly he was consuming the sustenance. Hardwire had to consciously fight the urge to guzzle his energon. It just tasted so wonderful. Tilting his head back and holding the cube in both hands, he drained the last drop from the cube and set if down a happy sigh.

He offered the empty cube back to Ratchet, "Thank you," he murmured meekly, "that tasted great."

Ratchet stared unreadably at him for several seconds before blinking, he seemed genuinely flummoxed at Hardwire's thanks. Finally he stammered, "Y-your welcome, Hardwire. I'm going to need to run some scans on you now. So just lie back and hold still."

Hardwire cocked his head to one side as he lay down on the berth again and felt it readjust to a flat position. Inwardly hiding his discomfort as he felt the arm restraints click back into place he asked, "How do you know my name?"

Ratchet muttered something briefly as he started to scan Hardwire before replying, "Your sister told us your name."

He shuddered slightly as a tingling sensation swept through him, _must be the scan._ "Starwish did?" Hardwire suddenly remembered why he'd been running when he'd first gotten shot at by the femme, Chromia if he recalled correctly, and asked worriedly, "The twins! I heard an explosion in their direction-"

Ratchet shot him a harsh look, "The two younglings and your sister are fine. Now be quiet, your talking threw off this scan and now I have to do it again." Hardwire settled back against the berth with a tiny sigh of relief. The twins and Starwish were safe.

Once Ratchet had finished the scan and looked over the results with much muttering and frowning. Hardwire dared to ask, "If I may ... why am I strapped down?"

Ratchet looked down at him briefly before studying the scan readouts on his arm panel once more, "Because I didn't want you thrashing in your recharge and injuring that leg any more than you have already. The wound caused by Chromia's shot was bad enough, but you made it severely worse by running like you did. Also, having you restrained keeps Red Alert off of my aft."

Hardwire fought to keep a smile off of his face at the irritated tone in Ratchet's voice as he said Red Alert's name, "He's a security officer?" Hardwire could already guess what Red Alert's position in the Autobot forces was, but it never hurt to ask.

Ratchet huffed, "Yes, he is. Not that it is any of **your** business."

Hardwire backed off of that topic and brought up a previous one instead, "So, I don't suppose you would consider letting me up then."

A wrench appeared out of nowhere and solidly bopped him on the head. Not hard enough to leave a dent, merely hard enough to surprise him. Ratchet scolded over his shocked protest, "I most certainly will not! Not only has your right leg taken far to much damage to even **consider** walking for at **least** four metacycles, you are a Decepticon."

Hardwire inwardly wished he could rub his mildly aching head and stared at Ratchet incredulously, "A-? I'm not a Decepticon!"

Ratchet didn't even bat an optic at his protest, he simply pointed to Hardwire's left shoulder plate, "Then how do you explain that?"

Feeling even more confused than he had when he'd first woken up as a Cybertronian, he craned his head to look at his shoulder. It took some effort and staring, but when he finally spotted what Ratchet meant, he nearly fainted. Peaking out from the huge rippled scar on his shoulder, was the top part of a Decepticon symbol. His jaw worked for several seconds before he finally managed to say something, "Oh, that."

Ratchet's voice was heavily laced with sarcasm, "Yes, **that**. If you are not a Decepticon, would you care to explain how that symbol is on what is left of your shoulder plate?"

Hardwire let his head fall back onto the berth with a miserable clunk, "Yes, but you probably wouldn't believe me."

Ratchet said, "Probably. But try me anyway before I have to go check on the others."

Hardwire looked up directly into Ratchet's optics in an effort to get his sincerity across, "I'm not a Decepticon, my creator was. He ... he branded that onto my shoulder when I was old enough to withstand the pain."

Ratchet narrowed his optics, "You're in your third frame, surely you aren't suggesting that the mark magically transferred from frame to frame?"

Hardwire shook his head, inwardly cursing Cybertronian physiology, "No, but do you really think that he wouldn't brand my other frames? He'd already had them built and ready for the cycle I was old enough. They were pre-branded and I didn't have much of a say in the matter either. Or any, really."

Ratchet was looking thoughtful, "So, your saying your creator raised you as a Decepticon against your will?"

Hardwire shook his head again, "My creator died in battle when I was little. I don't know who found me, but whoever they were, they took me and my future frames to a pair of sparkmates who raised me as their own. They ... they couldn't procure new frames for me, so my guardians had to use the ones my creator had first built."

"And they didn't have enough credits to pay for the mark's removal?" Taking advantage of Ratchet's guess, he nodded curtly.

Hardwire patiently waited through the silence that followed. He had told the truth, mostly. His biological father had been in a gang that was basically the human equivalent of the Decepticons.

He'd been just a toddler when his father had had the gang's identification symbol permanently tattooed onto his son's left shoulder. Hardwire had only been a little bit older when his father was accidentally killed in a police raid and he was taken to a foster family. Unfortunately, whoever had performed the tattoo application had done a superb job of it. The infuriating thing had never faded and Hardwire's adopted family had never had anywhere near the money required for removal treatments.

When designing his fictional character, Hardwire had decided to have his transformer have a similar backstory, only with the Decepticon symbol instead of the gang tattoo. _If I'd known I'd eventually wind up _**_as_**_ Hardwire ... Oh well, no sense crying over it now. I told Ratchet the truth in Cybertronian terms as best I could._ Now if only he was lucky enough to have Ratchet believe him.

The white and orange medic seemed to be mulling his story over. Raising an optic ridge, Ratchet nodded to the scar that mostly hid the mark, "And the story behind that scar?"

Hardwire allowed a tiny smile to grace his lips, "This? Well, the short version is that a housing unit near where I lived caught on fire and I rushed over to see if I could help. Some flaming debris broke loose, hit my shoulder and bingo, giant scar for my trouble."

Ratchet made a 'hmm' noise, "Well, those were very interesting stories Hardwire. I can't say I believe them yet. But they are interesting. Now, I need to go check on my other patients." He turned to leave, but paused at the last second and sighed, "I'm going to regret this." Turning back, he reached under the berth and flicked a switch. The restraints holding his arms, middle, and left leg retracted. Leaving only the one holding down his injured limb, "There, now, do not pull any of the monitors loose or remove the emergency energon line. If you do, you **will** regret it."

With that, Ratchet was gone, leaving Hardwire to entertain himself with his three newly freed limbs. Hardwire looked at his hands and wiggled his fingers in delight. He'd hated being completely pinned. Even though he was still confined to the berth, at least now he had a chance to amuse himself. Looking up, he smiled at the closed door, "Thanks, doc. I'll be careful."

* * *

Starwish shivered quietly and curled up more tightly on the berth. She had woken up a few ... breems was it? Breems ago in a clean, uniform white room with monitors beeping steadily away on either side. At first she had panicked, wondering where she was and how she had gotten there. Then she had remembered everything that had just happened and her panic for herself had been replaced by miserable worry for Hardwire and the twins.

It didn't help matters that the berth she was lying on was cold and very, very hard. She sighed and tried her best not to look at her monitors. The entire ordeal was disconcerting enough without her mind supplying terms, uses, and statistics about the med equipment around her. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't help but glance at them when one of them started beeping at a higher frequency than before.

_Systems energon monitor. Meant to keep track of the patient's energon levels and report it to the nearest active medical terminal._ To distract herself, she watched the kliks go by on her internal clock to see how long it would take for a medic to answer the monitor's call. It took about a breem.

Starwish didn't look up as the door to her room slid open and someone walked in, "Oh, you're awake. Hello." Starwish didn't recognize the gentle voice and timidly risked taking her head out of her cupped hands to take a peak at its owner. He was a tall mech, with a red main body and white arms and legs. He had a concerned look on his face that matched his gentle tone and Starwish felt that under normal circumstances she would have tried to befriend him instantly. She hid her face in her hands again, _of course, 'normal circumstances' would not include a red and white medic robot in the first place._

The medic came closer to her, "My designation is First Aid, I'm a medical assistant under the CMO of the base." When she didn't respond, he asked worriedly, "Are you all right? Are you in any pain?"

Starwish finally worked up the nerve to speak to him, she peeked out of her hands and glared at him accusingly, "Where are the twins? Where is my brother?"

First Aid's large blue optics shone with compassion as he answered, "Don't worry, your family unit is fine. Your brother is recuperating just down the hall and your younglings are just next door. I would let them in to see you, but they're sleeping right now. I'm sure Ratchet will move them in here as soon as they wake up."

Deeply relieved to hear that her family was safe, Starwish risked uncurling a little bit, _thank goodness they're safe._ Pausing, she looked up at him, realizing that he was obviously waiting for her to say something, "um ... my name is Starwish. Thank you for telling me about my family, First Aid."

First Aid smiled, pleased that he had gotten his patient to warm up to him a little bit, "It was my pleasure, Starwish. Do you think you could handle some energon? We've been feeding it to you intravenously, but drinking it directly from a cube would probably be more comfortable."

Starwish sat up all the way, trying to cheer herself up for the sake of the sweet natured medic beside her, "I think I could handle a cube, thanks."

First Aid nodded happily and temporarily left her room to fetch a cube of energon. Starwish stared at the blank white ceiling thoughtfully, her entire situation was so ... impossible. Yet she still couldn't bring herself to consider it anything but reality. Dreams weren't real enough, she doubted she could have a joint hallucination with the others, a coma was out for both of the previous reasons. Therefor, she must really be in a Cybertronian med-bay, waiting for her first drink of energon that was being brought to her by a gentle Autobot medic.

First Aid returned, carrying a glowing cube of the blue life-force for all Cybertronians, "Here you are."

Starwish took the cube from his hands timidly, "Thank you."

First Aid nodded amiably, "It was my pleasure. Now, while you drink, I need to run a few scans over your frame and such. Is that all right?" Starwish nodded her assent and focused on her 'breakfast' instead of the tingling feeling forming in her feet. Raising the rim of the cube to her lips, she sipped gingerly on the liquid and couldn't resist the groan of pleasure that escaped her lips at how wonderful it tasted.

Not noticing First Aid's concerned look at her groan, she eager gulped down some more of the energon before remembering her manners. She felt her face heat slightly with embarrassment and murmured an apology to First Aid. The red and white medic was quick to reassure her that it was fine and to keep eating.

Starwish glanced up at his face thoughtfully as she reservedly sipped on her breakfast. _I don't remember a medic named First Aid in the Prime series. Of course, Jazz wasn't in it either. He's nice though, very gentle. Not at all like how Ratchet is portrayed._ She absentmindedly swallowed the last of the energon, shivering as she felt its welcome energy disperse through her body.

First Aid looked at the empty cube approvingly and calmly removed it from her hands, setting it on a nearby counter, "Good. Very good. The fact that you can hold your energon shows your tanks haven't been as badly damaged by the deprivation as we feared."

The seeming medical guru in Starwish's head immediately told her what First Aid meant and that his words were true. Starwish grimaced uncomfortably at the brief rush of knowledge, _that is going to take some getting used too._ Turning her thoughts away from her medical knowledge, she asked First Aid politely, "You said you were a medical assistant. To whom, may I ask?"

First Aid continued running various scans on her body as he answered, "Certainly, the CMO of the base is named Ratchet. He is an extraordinary doctor let me assure you, even if his berth-side manner is ... often unexpected."

Starwish nodded, and hid a faint smile, the contrast between First Aid's bedside manner and the one shown by Ratchet on various shows she'd seen was drastic, "Have you worked with him long?"

First Aid shook his head, "No, actually, I just transferred from a rear-line base. More medical assistance was requested for this sector and I was chosen to fill in the blank. I've been here for ... ten metacycles I think."

Starwish mentally tried to figure out how long a metacycle would be in human terms and finally concluded that a metacycle was a Cybertronian week. "Ah," she said quietly. Silence fell over the two for a while as First Aid looked over the readouts of her scans and she contemplated various things. Finally, First Aid made an uncomfortable revving sound in his engine, causing Starwish to look over at him.

He shifted from one foot to the other and said, "Uh, I need to take a sample of you CNA. Could you remove the upper arm plating on your right arm, please?"

Starwish looked down at the mentioned appendage with a helpless expression. _Okay, how do I do that?_ For once, her medical guru came in handy as it finally provided useful knowledge. Reaching over with her left hand, she carefully undid the latch on the front part of her upper arm plating and pulled the white metal sheet free. The sight of a myriad of wires, cables and a pulsing energon line made her freeze in wonder.

_Wow._ First Aid carefully approached her and reached to take a sample of her CNA. It was then that Starwish realized he was holding a needle. A very large, very sharp, needle. She hated needles. She drew a breath sharply and flinched instinctively as the offending medical tool came closer. Fist Aid paused, sensing his patient's fear, "It's okay, I promise it won't hurt and it will be over in a nano-klik."

Starwish held her breath and averted her eyes, trying not to freak out and start crying at the sight of the silver pointed object in First Aid's hand. Her fear of needles was, frankly, ridiculous, she knew that. But even that knowledge did not stop her from whimpering as she felt the needle puncture her energon line and draw a sample from it.

Thankfully, First Aid completed the procedure as swiftly as possible and removed the needle from her system before soldering the tiny hole closed once more. "There, I'm done." He comfortingly rubbed her shaking back. Starwish released the breath she'd been holding and slowly unclenched her hands.

"I hate needles." She muttered darkly. First Aid gave her a sympathetic pat on her shoulder, directly underneath one of her stick like mods.

"I'm really sorry, Starwish. But thank you for letting me take the sample and not attacking me. I need to take this to Ratchet right now ... do you want to be left alone for a while?"

_Attack him? Maybe there's a reason for Ratchet's bedside manner._ That particular thought was hastily pushed aside in favor of the fact that First Aid was about to leave her all alone with her unwelcome thoughts. Starwish shook her head and looked up at him pleadingly, "No ... I don't want to be alone. Please, can I come with you?" She could see that her request placed him in a troublesome situation. The struggle between professionalism and compassion shining clear in his optics for several seconds.

Finally he released a tiny sigh and nodded, "All right, you can come with me. But let me know if you get to feeling the slightest bit off." Starwish smiled eagerly as he carefully disconnected several monitors from her body and helped her off of the berth. He paused, "Um ... you can put your armor back on now."

Starwish looked down sharply at her arm and realized that she hadn't replaced the protective plating. Her face started to heat up again as she hastily slipped in back on and latched it into place, "Sorry about that."

First Aid gave her a forgiving smile, "It's fine, just please, please, don't get into trouble. If you do, Ratchet is sure to have my armor on the 'best left scrapped' shelf." Starwish solemnly promised to not make any trouble for First Aid and followed him out of the door. As quick walk through a short hallway later found Starwish standing in the main room of Ratchet's med-bay, mouth open in surprise.

The bay. Was. Huge. Berths easily twice the size of the one she had woken up on stood in two neat rows on either side of the room. "Hey there, femme. Good to see you up and about." Her eyes snapped to the unexpected speaker, who turned out to be a gargantuan black mech. _Ironhide, that's Ironhide. He looks just like he stepped out of the movies._

Ironhide was lying on a berth halfway across the room, his blue optics studying her ruefully. He waved a large hand calmly and raised an optic ridge, "Aren't you going to say anything, femme?"

Starwish blinked as she realized she'd been staring at him, "Oh! Sorry. Good cycle to you ... sir." _Almost said his name. That wouldn't have gone over well. Especially when we haven't been 'officially introduced'._

Ironhide smiled at her and motioned for her to come closer as he spoke, "Name's Ironhide, femme, and it'd be a much better cycle if I wasn't trapped in this pit of a med-**ouch**!" Starwish blinked in surprise as a wrench flew from seemingly out of nowhere to slam into Ironhide's helm with a clang.

She whirled, looking for the wrench wielding sniper. Her eyes rested upon the sight of a scowling Ratchet and Starwish had to resist the urge to run for her life. His glare was, apparently, much more intimidating in real life than when it was on a screen. Ratchet stormed past her to Ironhide, "What have I said about swearing near younglings?"

Ironhide rubbed his head ruefully, "C'mon, Hatchet. The younglings couldn't possibly have heard that-ouch!"

Ratchet, having retrieved the wrench and smacked Ironhide's head once more, now shook the deadly tool underneath Ironhide's nonexistent nose, "One, **never** assume a youngling can't hear you unless they are on an entirely different half of the planet. Two, do not call me Hatchet. My. Name. Is. **Ratchet**. Remember that. Three-" Ratchet suddenly paused in his lecture and whipped around to face Starwish, who had been watching the entire thing silently, too afraid of attracting Ratchet's attention to flee.

The curt medic's engine sputtered for several seconds before Ratchet turned very slowly to face First Aid, who was busy pretending to fix some tool by the counter. "First Aid," Ratchet asked in a frighteningly quiet voice, "why is one of my patients, whom I **specifically** stated were not to leave their rooms yet, standing there? Outside her room? Without supervision?"

First Aid looked nervously between Starwish and Ratchet, "I-I apologize Ratchet. It's just that ... she really didn't want to be left alone in her room. So I thought she could come out here for a few breems. I meant no harm."

Starwish spotted the hand holding the wrench starting to twitch menacingly and hastily came to First Aid's defense, "It was my fault. I begged even when I knew better. I just ... I hate being left alone in a strange place."

Ratchet glared at her, "Well, you have to go back-"

Starwish interrupted him, the threat of being alone with her confusing thoughts overriding the recently displayed threat of a wrench to the head, "If you want me to rest, I can lie down on one of the berths out here. That way I get rest without having to be alone. Please?"

Silence fell over the med-bay as Ratchet considered her proposition. Starwish was painfully aware of how Ironhide was staring at her appraisingly, his expression one of grudging respect for risking the wrath of Ratchet. The taciturn medic in question finally huffed, "Very well, go lie down over there and be quiet," he started to turn back to Ironhide only to call over his shoulder, "and don't even think about bolting for the door!"

Starwish nodded meekly and sat down on the berth Ratchet had motioned too. She watched Ratchet mutter and fiddle with Ironhide's leg for a little bit, her newfound mental medical dictionary explaining what he was doing. Shaking her head to clear it of lengthy terms and explanations, she instead began to study the main room of the bay.

It was surprisingly similar to the one in the abandoned base she'd woken up in. Two rows of berths, a solid counter on the far end from the exit and doors, including the one she had come through, leading off to the sides. Lined up next to each berth was a small, wheeled table that had a rim running along its edge. _An operating stand, for when the medic needs tools that aren't currently in his subspace. Interesting._

Starwish was struck by the fact that everything was all very organized and very clean. She would have expected more ... disorder somehow. After all, this was a medical bay and there was a war going on, one would think that it would have more patients than just her, her family, and the currently protesting Ironhide. _A war ... one that we're all now going to be caught up in._ She shivered suddenly and rubbed her hands over her arms in an effort to banish the cold feeling enveloping her.

"Are you cold?" Starwish jumped at the sound of First Aid's voice. She looked up into his concerned face and nodded shakily. The kindly medic gave her a sympathetic frown before hurrying off to find something. _I wonder if Cybertronians have blankets._ Apparently they did, because within moments of First Aid's departure, he returned to gently unfold one and spread it over her shoulders. Starwish smiled at him gratefully and whispered a 'thank you' as she pulled the odd feeling weave more tightly around her.

He shrugged in a 'no trouble at all' sort of way and resumed his self appointed tasks. Starwish watched him without really observing, her focus was turned inward, _A war. How am I even supposed to begin to handle that knowledge?_ Another concern raised itself, _How am I supposed to handle the knowledge I may have of the future? Is this one of the universes chronicled in the TV series's and comic books? Is this the 'movie-verse'? Ratchet looks and sounds like the one from Transformers Prime, but Jazz and Ironhide practically look like they stepped out of the movies. If this is one of the worlds I know about, what am I supposed to do about it? Nothing? How can I stay silent if I see someone I know is going to die?_

The last question prompted a realization, _like Jazz in the first movie and Ironhide in the third. Oh, no._

She squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, she simply didn't have any answers to the many questions flooding her mind. She needed a distraction of some kind before she went nuts. Thankfully, a distraction presented itself in the form of two escaping bundles of energy that shot past her berth and for the door. First Aid yelped in surprise and dived for the twins as they scurried past, alerting Ratchet to the escapees.

Ratchet turned from where he'd been working on Ironhide's leg and joined First Aid in chasing the rambunctious younglings. Zipline shot between Ratchet's legs, yelling loudly, "Freeedooom!" and Starwish couldn't help but laugh at First Aid's rather pathetic attempts to catch Fast Track, who, instead of running around in the open like his brother, was dodging from berth to berth, using the metal slabs as cover from First Aid's reaching servos.

_Guess I'd better help._ Without bothering to leave the berth, she called, "Twins! What are you two doing?"

Fast Track darted underneath the berth next to hers and shouted gleefully, "Escaping the Autobot's clutches!"

Zipline bounced past, Ratchet hot on his heels as the agile boy weaved expertly between First Aid's legs, effectively tripping him and sending him crashing into Ratchet, "Yeah! Wanna join us?"

Ironhide was laughing his head off from his position across the room as the twins climbed onto Starwish's berth and cheekily waved to the tangled pile of arms, legs, and angry shouts that was Ratchet and his assistant. Star smiled indulgently down at the twins, "Thanks, but no thanks you two. Are you sure you want to escape? If you do, you'll never hear the great story a certain noble warrior just told me."

All thought of escape vanished from the twins' heads at her words. They knew an offer for a story when they heard it and Starwish's stories were always interesting, "Okay!" With all of the grace and decorum of hooligans, Zipline and Fast Track flopped down on either side of her, faces turned upwards to hers expectantly.

Starwish stared at her lap and gathered her thoughts, doing her best to ignore everyone else in the room as she started making up a story for the twins. Her mind settled on an idea and she smiled, "Once upon a time, there was a great kingdom call Sun Crest and in that kingdom, there dwelled two young mechs..."

* * *

Optimus Prime strode slowly down the halls of the base on his way to the med-bay, nodding politely to any who passed his way. He had decided to go and see how the four Cybertronians Jazz and his team had found were doing. From Jazz and Mirage's report about how the cycle had ended, he supposed that his presence might be required to calm things down. _Of course, I am not going to be a very calming sight to a Decepticon. But perhaps I can get answers to a few of the questions raised by Jazz's report._

Another thought struck him, _it would no doubt be wise to com ahead and let Ratchet know I am coming._ Opening Ratchet's private channel, Optimus called, ::Optimus Prime to Ratchet.::

Ratchet sounded distracted, ::Yes, Optimus, what is it?:: Optimus suppressed a rueful smile that threatened to break across his face. If anyone else had spoken so disrespectfully, they would have gotten a stern talking too. However, he had known Ratchet for far too long to be insulted by his medic's tone.

Keeping his own tone polite and neutral he replied, ::I am coming to the med-bay to visit your new patients. Is that acceptable?::

There was silence on Ratchet's end and Optimus got the strong impression that his call was interrupting something important. Finally, Ratchet replied, ::You may come in. But be quiet about it. She just managed to get those little Unicron-incarnates settled down.::

_Now what could that be about?_ ::Understood, Optimus out.:: Optimus Prime finished the walk to the bay in silence and braced himself for anything as he walked through the doors to the Medical wing.

Well, almost anything. The scene of Ratchet, First Aid, Ironhide, Jazz, and Chromia, all sitting or leaning on various berths or walls listening intently to a tiny white femme tell a story to two adorable mechlings was not something that had come up on his 'be prepared for' list.

Seemingly oblivious to his entrance, the femme, _Starwish,_ he surmised, continued to speak and gesture with her hands, "The wind blew all around him, the cold chill it carried biting into his exposed circuitry like Scraplet fangs as he struggled up the mountain towards Queen Nova Pulse's palace. Scattershot could feel his ankle acting up again as he plowed onward across the abandoned landscape, threatening to disable him and prevent him from succeeding in his quest."

Optimus carefully leaned against the wall next to the door, entranced by the storyteller's fervor for her tale, " 'I must keep going', he whispered to himself, 'I promised I would!' his hand unconsciously clenched the medallion his brother had given him. He **would** make it to the palace and warn the queen, he **would**."

Ironhide opened a com with him, ::Surprised, Prime? She's been going solid for thirty breems now and her younglings haven't so much as twitched a servo since she started.::

Optimus asked, ::Do you know what story she is telling? I do not recognize it at all.::

Jazz chipped in, ::No su'prise there O.P., she's makin' it up as she goes along. Real good at it too, bet she's done this afore.::

Chromia shushed them, ::No disrespect intended to you, Prime, but will all three of you shut it? I want to hear what happens next.:: Optimus flicked his optics over to Chromia in surprise, he hadn't pegged her as the type to listen to sparkling-tales. _But_, he told himself, _this story does sound interesting enough to hold an adult's attention._ Optimus fell silent and took the opportunity provided to study the white femme Starwish.

The first thing that struck him was her dual colored optics, he had seen several different optic colors in his time as commander of the Autobot forces, but this was the first time he could recall seeing someone with a red optic and a blue optic instead of both being one or the other.

The second thing that struck him was how young she looked. Jazz had reported her to be the youngling's carrier, but looking at her with his own optics, Optimus couldn't help but feel that she was far too young to be the danni of younglings that age. Her having a pair of tiny sparklings he could imagine with a bit of effort, but those two younglings sitting eagerly at her feet were far too old to be her young. _So what is she to them? A sister? A guardian?_

His musings were cut short when one of the younglings spoke up eagerly to some knew fact of the narrative, "What did he see, Star? What did he see?"

Optimus returned his attention to Starwish's story and watched as she widened her optics dramatically, "There, standing over Scattershot like a manifestation of the cold, was **Blackspark**, the deadliest of all of Giga Pulse's assassins."

The two younglings gasped in horror at the name and the green painted one snarled fiercely, "No fair! Sending Blackspark after Scattershot! No fair!"

Starwish made a shushing motion with her servo, "Tyrants rarely play fair, Zipline. Anyway, Scattershot looked up into the pitiless black mask that the infamous assassin always wore and felt his spark sink with dread. How was he supposed to fight someone so powerful? More importantly, how was he supposed to fight the brother he loved, no matter if that brother couldn't remember him?" Optimus hid a thoughtful scowl, he wasn't sure he liked where the story was turning.

The second youngling, Fast Track if the Prime recalled correctly, blinked his optics and whispered, "What did Scattershot do?"

Starwish smiled at Fast Track and continued, "Scattershot knew that begging would get him nowhere, so instead, he said, 'I know you're in there Windfall, no matter what Giga Pulse says, I know that you're still my brother. I love you Windfall, please, come back.'." Ironhide growled angrily and received a glare from the other listeners for interrupting.

Starwish kept up her story as if she hadn't noticed, "Blackspark drew a long, slender sword, held it up in a warrior's salute and waited for his opponent to draw a weapon. Fighting the despair that pulled at his spark, Scattershot stood firm and drew the delicate knife that his mentor had given him in his last dying moments and mimicked the motion the dark assassin who had once been his best friend had preformed. With a rush, Blackspark's sword whipped through the air in a deadly arch, seeking to cut his opponent down in one strike. Scattershot raised his knife to defend himself and as he did so, something amazing happened."

The two younglings leaned forward expectantly, "What? What happened?"

"The sword, stopped. There was no ring of metal on metal, there was no meeting of blade to blade. For Blackspark had stopped his sword mere micro-meters away from Scattershot's engraved knife. With wondering optics, Scattershot watched as Blackspark, assassin and warrior of a thousand successful missions, bowed deeply to him, and set his sword upon the floor in a sign of defeat. From behind the mask, Scattershot heard Windfall's voice say softly 'I know you do, my brother'."

Zipline and Fast Track cheered wildly and waved their servos in the air. Fast Track hugged his own brother gleefully, "I knew Giga Pulse couldn't make Windfall turn on Scattershot! I knew it!"

The little two member celebration carried on for almost two breems before Starwish managed to calm them down again. "All right, all right, settle down. With Windfall now freed from Giga Pulse's control, he and Scattershot successfully carried the warning of the evil warlord's plans to the Queen. Once she was fully warned of her enemy's plans, the Queen and her council drew up a strategy to defeat him and after a mighty battle, Giga Pulse was overthrown and peace returned once more to Sun Crest Kingdom. As for Scattershot and Windfall? Well, they soon left the kingdom in search of another adventure to complete, together. The End."

Optimus joined the others in the room in clapping at the story's happy ending. _If only real life could end so perfectly._ Starwish's gaze snapped up to the rest of the room in obvious surprise and when she saw small audience scattered haphazardly around the room, her faceplates flushed bright blue with embarrassment, "Oh ... oh dear."

Jazz waved a servo airily, "Easy there, Star. No need ta blush, your story was real good."

Optimus agreed with his First Lieutenant, "Indeed, you have a marvelous gift for storytelling. I hope we did not intrude."

Starwish stared at him with large optics, and stammered, "N-not at all s-sir. I, uh..."

"Oh, scrap! Your Optimus Prime! **The** Optimus Prime!" The younglings Zipline and Fast Track seemed to teleport from the berth to his feet they moved so fast. They began bouncing up and down and talking over each other, completely ignoring the surprised silence that had come from their swearing.

An amused glance at Starwish saw her holding her helm in her servos in total embarrassment. Optimus turned his optics downward to the younglings, "Easy there you two. What would your designations be?" He already knew, but asking would help the younglings see him as friendly.

They smiled brightly up at him, "I'm Zipline and this is Fast Track! You're really Optimus Prime, that is so ... so amazing! Have you really gone pede to pede with Megatron? Were you really-"

Starwish looked up sharply, "Twins! Be respectful! You two know better then to ask question like that!"

The twins flinched mildly at her tone and murmured apologies to both Optimus and Starwish. Optimus allowed a small smile to flicker across his lips, the two mechlings were so adorable. Ratchet interrupted the conversation, "All right, that's enough. You two need energon. First Aid, see to the twins. Chromia take your sparkmate and go back to your quarters. Make sure he rests that leg, and I mean **actual** rest. No running, exercises, or..." he paused to glance at the younglings, "things of that like."

Chromia nodded curtly and strode over to help her sparkmate off of the berth, Ironhide grumbled slightly at Ratchet's instructions and Optimus noted Starwish throw a hooded look at the blue femme. Meanwhile, Ratchet had chased Jazz out of the bay with a wrench and was now eyeing Optimus balefully. Optimus dipped his head politely to Starwish and turned to Ratchet, "Ratchet might I speak with Starwish in private?"

Ratchet fingered his wrench menacingly, "Three breems, then she needs to go back to her room and rest."

Optimus nodded, "Understood Ratchet." He turned to Starwish and felt his spark twist at the barely contained fear in her optics, _why is she frightened of me? _"Do you feel well enough to speak with me, Starwish?"

Starwish seemed to consider his clear offer to dodge the conversation. Slowly her head dipped in an assent, "As you wish, sir."

Optimus gave a tiny, reassuring smile, trying his best to ease the incomprehensible fears he could sense hiding inside her. "Thank you, I believe Ratchet's office will provide us with the privacy we need." Starwish nodded and slid off of the berth her tiny frame easily dwarfed by his own.

She followed him into Ratchet's office and he motioned her to sit down. She shook her head, "No offense sir, but, I feel small enough compared to you as it is. I'll stand if I may."

Optimus dipped his head, "As you wish." He paused, gathering his thoughts and considering how to broach his question gently and without the risk of causing fear. Deciding that soft but blunt would be best, he said, "My First Lieutenant has already filed a full report as to how he and his team found you. But I am curious to know how you and your family unit came to be there in the first place. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon. (still not sure on this one)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! I have returned with another chapter!**

**Review response: Dear HeartsGuardianSol, hi! Thank you for the review and here is another chapter for your viewing pleasure!**

**Dear jd009, greetings! Thank you very much for the review, you are so sweet! I hope you enjoy the next installment of this story.**

**Author's Note: Okay, so does anyone remember how in the chapter two author's note I said that I would talk about Sunstreaker and Sideswipe later? Well, this is later and here is my official introduction for them into this story. I am basing their color schemes and personalities on their Generation 1 versions as best I can. Sunstreaker is really hard because there wasn't much on his Wiki page and every fan fiction author seems to portray him a little bit differently. However, the running pattern for the yellow twin appears to be a mix between sarcastic prankster and a severely anti-social artist, so that's what I'm going with. As for their physical appearance, since I really liked the 'wheels on pedes' concept Sideswipe had in Revenge of the Fallen, I have added that to them here. Just imagine what the twins would look like if they had appeared in Transformers Prime with their G1 personalities and wheels on their pedes and you're pretty much there.**

**As always, feel free to tell me (politely) if I am incorrectly portraying any of the canon characters. Also, Bulkhead from the Prime-verse is mentioned in this chapter but does not appear.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs, Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, and Buffer.**

* * *

**Chapter Six: Settling In**

Starwish looked up curiously from the datapad First Aid had helpfully lent her at the sound of Ratchet's agonized screech. A moment later, the twins went running past, clutching the wire guts of some poor medical tool that the overly inquisitive pair had disemboweled. As Ratchet ran past he yelled, "**Twins**! I **needed that**!" Unintentionally causing Starwish to snicker as she thought of all the times on the TV show that Bulkhead had inadvertently sparked that famous line.

Zipline called over his shoulder, "We were gonna put it back together! Honest!"

Fast Track chipped in unhelpfully from his unreachable corner underneath a berth, "Yeah! Just after we figured out how we took it apart!"

Starwish shook her head and tried to go back to reading. However, the racket of the twins being chased by an irate Medic proved to much for her powers of concentration and with a sigh, she set her borrowed datapad in her lap and glared at the twins. She knew that ordering them to return the stolen parts to the tool would be futile, after their second metacycle in the med-bay the pair had gone 'stir-crazy'. Even offering to tell them a story was no longer enticing enough for them to settle down and stop driving Ratchet and First Aid utterly insane.

_We need to get out of here somehow. Even I'm beginning to get twitchy._ Of course, she mused as she spotted First Aid emerge from Hardwire's room to help Ratchet corner the tool hunting twins, it could be worse. Her older brother was easily the most stir-crazy among them. Ratchet refused to let him leave his berth for any reason and Starwish could tell from her conversations with Hardwire that the isolation was beginning to get to him.

_Perhaps I could ask Prime to make Ratchet let us out?_ She dismissed that idea instantly. Not only did she have no way of contacting the Prime, she still had to fight the blush that always crept onto her face whenever she thought about the conversation they'd had her first day in Ratchet's care. While Optimus had been very gentle and kind, Starwish had nearly died of fear at having to partially lie to her personal hero when he'd asked where she'd come from and how she and her family had wound up in the abandoned base.

She was still sure that he'd seen her stammered story for what it was, a half-truth at best and a lie at worst. Of course, making up little pieces of her backstory when the truth would have revealed her human origins had been nowhere near as embarrassing as the part of the conversation when Prime had politely asked if she was the twins mother.

She had actually come close to fainting, or crashing as Ratchet called it, when he had aired the question. Starwish had been quick to explain what her real relationship was with the twins. But still, thinking about the entire debacle made her blush.

_Back on topic, asking Prime for a favor is out. So what do I do to stop this madness?_ The twins scooted past the berth she had settled on in order to read, laughing unrepentantly as Ratchet ordered them to cease and desist at that very instant. _No way I'm going to able to think in this atmosphere._ Starwish waited until the twins' mad scrambles had lured the wrench wielding medic and his assistant to the other side of the room before hastily sliding off of the berth and fleeing to Hardwire's room.

After she had rushed inside and pressed her back thankfully against the shut door, Hardwire chuckled morosely from his trapped position on his berth, "What did they do this time? First Aid went running out like the place was on fire."

Starwish smiled weakly at him, "I think they disassembled one of Ratchet's energon fusion converters. But it's hard to tell when it's in a million different parts that the twins can't remember how to fit back together."

Hardwire made a small 'ah' noise and motioned for Starwish to sit on the berth next to him. She did so, careful not to nudge his injured leg as she cuddled against his massive side and pulled out her datapad again, "Want to hear about Praxus? I managed to coax First Aid into lending me his copy."

Hardwire made a face, "Wow, let me check my busy schedule and see if I have time. Hmm, hmm, well it appears I have **two metacycles** of spare time so ... sure, why not?"

Starwish patted him sympathetically, "I know it's rough. But maybe Ratchet will let you out early, he did say your recovery was coming along faster than expected."

Hardwire hummed noncommittally, "I'm kind of afraid of that. After all, I'm in here because I'm injured and helpless. What will they do with me when I'm healed? I look like a Decepticon after all."

Starwish stared vacantly at the datapad in her hands for several seconds, trying to figure out what she could say that would comfort her brother. On the one hand, part of her wanted to assure him that Optimus would listen to his story and give him a chance. The other, more cynical part of her though, wondered if the Prime would take that risk or simply lock Hardwire in the brig.

Hardwire lightly nudged her with his large metal hand, "Hey, don't let me get you down. I'm sure everything will work out. Mind if I read that datapad for a while? I already finished the one Ratchet gave me about Vos."

Starwish smiled, "I suppose I should go help catch the twins anyway, shouldn't I? Here, read to your spark's content." She handed over the datapad and slipped back outside to help stop the mini-monsters she called brothers.

It took almost ten breems of Ratchet, First Aid, and Starwish working together before they managed to catch the twins and reclaim Ratchet's poor, lobotomized tool. As Ratchet grumbled miserably over the piece of ruined equipment and First Aid helped Starwish firmly lock the twins in their room for a cool down time, she decided that enough was enough.

Gathering her courage, she walked over to Ratchet and tapped him on the arm. He glared down at her irritably, "What?"

Starwish glared right back, "Ratchet, enough is enough. We're going fritzy in here. The twins, myself, Hardwire, we need **out**." Ratchet opened his mouth to protest but she hurried on, "I know Hardwire can't walk yet, but we all need a distraction. Vid games, chores, **anything** to keep us from going insane." She looked at him pleadingly, "The twins and I aren't invalids, Ratchet. I know you say we suffered from energon deprivation and need to be monitored but does it have to be in here? Can't you have First Aid escort us ... someplace where the twins can explore or exercise?"

Ratchet studied her for a while, his expression thoughtful and conflicted. Starwish watched his face intently, mentally crossing her fingers in the hopes that he would say yes. Finally, he sighed, "Fine, I will look into getting you an escort to another part of the base. But if this goes wrong or the twins somehow blow us up because you convinced me to let them out of the med-bay, I'm holding you responsible."

Starwish barely resisted the urge to whoop for joy. Instead, she flung her arms around his waist in an exuberant hug, "Thank you Ratchet! Thank you!"

Ratchet grumbled softly, his words making soft vibrations against where her cheek was pressed against his middle, "Yes ... well, we'll see if you are still thanking me after I release the twins."

* * *

Sideswipe paced the room angrily, his servos clasped tightly behind his back and his faceplates set in a scowl. Sensing a touch of cool disinterest, Sideswipe whirled on his golden brother, the later of which was quietly painting away on a piece of canvas, "How can you not be at least a **little** bit angry about this? They can't do this to us! It isn't fair!"

Sunstreaker glanced up from his painting long enough to shoot his brother an unimpressed look, "It's just for the cycle Sideswipe. Why should I be angry?"

Sideswipe looked at his twin incredulously, how could his brother not see it? How could he not see that something was up? He glared at Sunstreaker, "Sunny, think about it. First, Jazz, Ironhide, Chromia, Ratchet, and Mirage go on a secret mission. Then, they have to call for an emergency evac when none of them are even injured."

Sunstreaker interrupted, "Because they found a group of neutral refugees fleeing the Decepticons, Prime already explained that."

Sideswipe crossed his arms over his chest plates, "If they found a group of refugees, then why haven't they been shipped to a refugee camp or a neutral settlement already? Why haven't we even been allowed to meet them? Prime and Ratchet and the others are hiding something from us, Sunny, and we need to find out what."

Sunstreaker sighed and finally set down his paint brush, "Sides, they isolated the rec room and surrounding halls from the rest of the base so that the refugees could get used to their surroundings without a bunch of heavily armed strangers crowding around. After what the 'Cons must have done to them, they're probably skittish. Once they settle, we'll get to meet them. Let it go."

Sideswipe shook his head stubbornly, "Nu-uh. I'm going to go find out what is **really** going on."

Sunstreaker turned back to painting, "Have fun then. I'll see you when you get out of the brig."

Sideswipe blinked several times. Had Sunstreaker really just blown him off? His brother was supposed to stand up and agree to go with him on the adventure, not simply shrug and say 'have fun'. He glowered at his sibling's back and let him know through their bond just how displeased he was.

Sunstreaker didn't even look up as he casually sent back an equal measure of apathy for his brother's displeasure. Determined to have an accomplice, Sideswipe sidled up to Sunny and purposely leaned in too close for comfort. While usually the twins had no real problems with being incredibly close together, when Sunstreaker was painting, he hated being crowded.

Sunstreaker paused in his attempt to shade the painting, _"Beat it, Sides. I'm not getting locked in the brig just because you wanted stick your nose-plate where it didn't belong."_ Sideswipe didn't move away, instead he inched closer, intentionally brushing his siblings back-plating with a hand as he pretended to inspect the picture Sunny was painting. There was a pause, _"Sideswipe, you have exactly three kliks to back off before I shoot you in the pede and smear this pink paint all over your chest plates."_

Sensing that Sunstreaker was serious, Sideswipe hastily backed off. He was going to have to try a different tactic. As he frowningly watched Sunstreaker peacefully paint for several kliks, an idea suddenly popped into his head. He grinned, _"Hey, Sunny."_

Sunstreaker stiffened at his wheedling tone, _"Go away Sideswipe. Stop bothering me."_

Sideswipe huffed exaggeratedly, _"Fine, I'll go all by myself. But don't blame me if the refugees turn out to be femmes. Sweet, frightened little femmes who's innocent expressions could only be accurately captured on canvas by a true master of the arts."_

There was a heavy silence. Sunstreaker growled in his engine a little bit and Sideswipe knew he had peeked his brother's interest, _"What makes you think any of them are femmes?"_

Sideswipe muffled his triumph and answered seriously, _"Do you seriously think that mechs would be so traumatized as to have Prime make sure everyone stays away from them? Come on! They have to be femmes! That would explain everything! Ratchet's secretiveness, closing off the rec room for them, the emergency evac when they could have just driven back..."_

There was another long silence as Sunstreaker tried to resist the possible chance Sideswipe theorized, but the mischief seeking twin knew that he had already won. Finally, Sunstreaker set his brush down and stood up, "Slag you." He hissed irritably.

Sideswipe smiled sweetly as he rolled past his twin and for the door, "I love you too, lets go."

It took the two front-liners several breems of careful sneaking before they got to the cordoned off area of the base via the ventilation shafts. Sideswipe smirked smugly as they crawled silently over Ironhide's head, the weapons specialist completely unaware that someone had just snuck past his watch post. _"See? The only mechs on guard are the ones who've already met them. Prime is trying to keep these refugees as isolated as possible."_

Sunstreaker didn't say anything, but Sideswipe could tell that his twin was beginning to come over to his side of thinking. They crawled carefully around a bend in the winding maze of air ducts and finally arrived at the opening they sought. Sideswipe carefully undid the latches to the vent using a special tool that the twins had designed for just such an occasion and the two silently slid out of the vents and into the empty corridor.

Sunstreaker carefully helped Sideswipe replace the vent and turned to his brother, _"All right, smart-mech. What now?"_

Sideswipe gestured calmly over his shoulder, _"We head to the rec room. The only areas off limits right now other than that are simply hallways necessary to get from there to the med-bay."_ Sunstreaker nodded and the twins started rolling their way down the halls.

They were almost to the rec room when Sunstreaker suddenly yanked Sideswipe back from rounding a corner, _"Hold it. I hear something."_ Sideswipe paused and turned up his audio receptors, trying to pinpoint the sound that had alarmed Sunstreaker.

He heard it, a soft gust of air as someone released it from their vents. Sideswipe felt excitement build in his spark and, crouching with his back pressed against the wall, risked a peek. The sight that met his optics was nothing short of perfection.

Small, slender, and with white armor as pure as Sunstreaker's most expensive paint, the femme standing alone in the hall stole his spark in an instant. He sensed Sunstreaker's artistic side practically melt into a puddle of adoring goo at the sight of such a perfect painting subject. Both mechs stared in unmitigated admiration as she stood perfectly still in the hallway.

* * *

Sunstreaker felt his spark beat fast, she was perfect. Every curve of her frame, every line of her armor was a masterpiece waiting to be preserved in paint. A part of him dimly wondered why she was just standing there, in an empty hallway. Just before he could formulate any theories, she moved.

With almost reverent slowness, her pedes turned sideways so their tips were pointed in opposite directions, her left pede pointing right, and her right pede pointing left. Her right servo slowly lifted into a position above her helm, fingers delicately splayed. Her left arm crooked slightly so her servo was gently cupped by her left hip. Then, she straightened, elegantly lifting herself onto her toes. Sunstreaker felt his vents hitch slightly as he realized what he was seeing, _she's a dancer. A dancer running through her practice dance._ True to his assumptions, the white femme began to dance.

The dance started out slow, comprising of low bows and leg sweeps. Her arms rose and fell like waves, her legs carrying her across the ground as if she was flying. For indeed, she was flying. There in the empty hall, she leaped and swirled, twisted and bowed, her body expressing things that words never could.

Sunstreaker felt his spark go out to her, she was beautiful. But her dance, it was sad. Every time she crouched to the ground and curled her servos against her spark chamber, every time she swept her arms back and lifted one of her legs so that the pede was pointing straight at the sky. It all spoke to his inner artist of an unquenchable love and an irreplaceable loss.

How long the dance lasted, Sunstreaker couldn't say, he was only paying attention to how the new object of his attentions moved with unparalleled grace. He had sometimes peeked in on the few femmes who lived on the base during their weapons practice, and they showed the grace of battle. But they didn't move like this. This was the grace of innocence and a lifetime spent solely for the art of dance. Elegance and expression untainted by the need to be constantly on guard for attack.

Slowly, the tone of the dance shifted, her motions came faster and stronger, her hands no longer lingered near her frame most of the time, but instead swept outward in sweeping motions similar to swordplay. Her leaps became higher, and her twirls more spirited. The tone of her dance had changed from sadness to courage. Sunstreaker took a breath softly through his intakes and unconsciously inched farther around the corner and into the open in an effort to see her more clearly.

Her dance without music finally reached a crescendo of motion and with one final, gravity defying leap coupled by a perfect mid-air split and upswept hands, she dropped to the ground in a low bow, vents working hard to cool her heavily exerted systems. _Beautiful._ Sunstreaker watched her silently, afraid that if he moved or spoke she would disappear.

Sideswipe, curse his brother, had no such fears, "That. Was. Amazing!" At the nearly unholy sound of Sideswipe's voice, the femme's optics snapped open and she leapt back from the sound with a small cry of fear. She stared at them for a second, and Sunstreaker was shocked by her dual colored optics.

Sideswipe rolled forward eagerly, "Hi! I'm-" he didn't get to finish. The moment he had started towards her, the femme gave a cry of fright and took off like a shot from a blaster. Sideswipe blinked, "Hey, wait! Come back!" He took off after her.

Sunstreaker swept down the hall, catching up easily with his twin to mentally lecture him, _"Glitch! You should have known better than to startle her!"_

Sideswipe glowered at him, _"Glitch, yourself! You were the one who scared her with your 'strong silent type' act! She would have been just fine except for that!"_

The two continued to argue as they shot after the femme down the hallways and towards the rec room. Sunstreaker caught a glimpse of her darting inside the rec room and shoved Sideswipe out of the way so he could be first through the door. Sideswipe, not about to come second, shoved him back, thus starting a shoving contest that ended when their pedes got tangled just as they passed through the doorway and fell to the floor with a clatter. Sunstreaker yelled automatically, "Watch the paint!"

He and Sideswipe struggled to untangle themselves for several kliks before both standing and glaring at each other. A cold voice interrupted their staring match, "An what do yah think **you're** doin' here?"

Sunstreaker looked up sharply, Jazz was standing in the middle of the rec room, his arms wrapped protectively around the mystery femme they'd been pursuing, a scowl clearly set on the saboteur's faceplates. Sideswipe piped up before Sunstreaker could stop him, "We were just coming to say hello to the refugees you found. We didn't mean to startle the femme there."

Jazz glared at them from behind his visor as he continued to hold the femme, "Uh-huh. An yah jus' happened ta forget thah Prime ordered everybot ta stay away until tha refugees was settled in?" Looking down at the femme huddled in his arms Jazz said softly, "I's okay Star, the'a jus' harmless glitches. Yah can stop shakin' now."

The femme, Star, slowly looked up from Jazz's chest plates and peeked at them shyly. Her red optic the only one currently visible, "Are you sure?" She whispered.

Jazz nodded and carefully let her go, "Ah'm sure. Yah don' have ta be afraid. Ah'll even introduce yah ta them if yah like."

Star nodded and slowly turned around so that she was facing the twins, but Sunstreaker noted that she stayed close to Jazz's side even after the saboteur had assured her that they weren't a threat. Sunstreaker also noted the pang of jealousy that stabbed his spark from Sideswipe's side of the bond and immediately sent back a 'don't you dare' vibe. He had learned a long time ago to squash his twin's crushes as soon a possible before Sideswipe could do anything that would make them both look stupid.

Ignoring his twin's indignation over their bond for the moment, Sunstreaker dipped his head politely to Star, "I'm Sunstreaker and this glitch here is Sideswipe. We apologize for startling you."

The femme nodded quietly, "My name is Starwish. Um ... it's nice to meet you. I'm sorry for running away earlier, but you two really took me by surprise."

Sideswipe rolled forward and smiled winningly, "No need to apologize Starwish. It was all our fault. But tell me, what is an image beauty like yourself doing here of all places?"

Jazz interrupted his obvious wooing, "Tryin' ta relax an' enjoy some time away from tha Hatchet an tha med-bay. Now why don' you two scat afore Ironhide shows up an' kicks yo'r actuators hard enough ta warrant a trip there?"

Sideswipe protested, "Aw, come on Jazz. We didn't mean any harm. Besides, you wouldn't send us away before Sunny and I made a **proper** apology would you?" Before anyone could try to stop him, Sideswipe rolled forward, took Starwish's hand, and bent at the waist in a bow as he prepared to kiss it.

Something flew through the air and bounced off of his helm, cutting off his attempt abruptly. Sideswipe looked up sharply, "Ow! Hey!" Another projectile flew through the air and nailed him between the optics, causing him to let go of Starwish's hand and stagger backwards with an outraged yelp.

Sunstreaker looked around for his twin's attackers and then blinked in surprise when he caught sight of them. Two identical younglings with color coordinating paint jobs were standing on top of the sofa, glaring at Sideswipe icily. One of them, the one who had presumably just thrown his vid game remote at Sideswipe's head, crossed his arms and snarled, "Back off, fragger. We don't like 'bots who scare our sister."

The second one nodded, "Yeah, back off! Or we'll make you!"

Sideswipe sputtered in confusion, "Who-?"

Jazz actually chuckled, "Sunstreaka', Sideswipe, meet tha **otha'** twins, Zipline an' Fast Track."

The latter twins were still glaring at Sideswipe even as their sister quietly scolded them for swearing. Zipline shrugged off Starwish's scolding easily, "What? He is a fragger. I was just calling him what he is." Sunstreaker could help but smirk at the youngling's spunk.

Sideswipe glowered first at the younglings, then at his brother, "How can you stand there smirking when I've just been insulted?"

Sunstreaker shrugged, "Easy, I hold still and tilt one side of my mouth up." Sideswipe huffed angrily and sent feelings of betrayal Sunstreaker's way. Sunstreaker deflected the feeling with indifference, Sideswipe had been acting like a fool, therefor he deserved to be hit on the helm with vid game remotes.

Sunstreaker turned to Starwish, "Ignore him, he's a gli-"

Jazz interrupted, "No language in front of tha younglin's!"

Sunstreaker carefully rephrased his statement and continued, "He is an **irritation **at times. Perhaps when you've calmed you would consider-" He was interrupted again when Ironhide stomped in and without waiting for an explanation, grabbed the intruding twins by their shoulder plates and dragged them forcibly outside. Sunstreaker struggled against Ironhide's unbreakable grip, "Hey! Watch the finish!"

Ironhide growled dangerously as he hauled the two down the halls, "Oh, I'll 'watch it' all right. Right after I finish beating it off your frame!"

* * *

Zipline watched as the unwelcome intruders were dragged off by Ironhide. Once the door had shut, cutting off the two's angry protests, he nodded curtly in approval and climbed off of the sofa to retrieve his vid game remote. _Good riddance._ Picking up the controllers, Zipline marched back to the sofa and handed one to Fast Track. His sibling took the offered controller and settled down to the game they'd been playing. As the two resumed steering their chosen race cars around the holographic track, Fast Track asked, _"Why was he paying attention to her anyway?"_

Zipline pressed the accelerator on his controller, _"No idea. I didn't like him though and that's reason enough to hit him."_

Fast Track seemed to ponder this, _"Yeah. It is."_

* * *

Jazz turned a bemused optic to Starwish, "Where di' they learn ta swear like thah?"

She shook her head, "I have no idea. Probably picked it up from a vid show that they were specifically told **not** to watch."

Jazz chuckled a little bit at that as he watched the mechlings eagerly race each other across the virtual landscape of the simplistic racing game, "Little guys get inta trouble a lot then?"

Starwish sat down on a nearby chair and sighed, "You have no idea. I swear, sometimes I think those two only exist to make my life more complicated than necessary." She turned a fond smile their way, "Still, I wouldn't trade them for anything in the world."

Jazz fell silent for a few breems, watching the femme out of corner of his optic. He could tell that the unexpected meeting with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe had shaken her up a great deal. Even now that they were gone, she remained mildly subdued in word and body posture.

_Shy little thing. Nothing like the femme who tried to cut my arm off with a buzz saw. Though I suppose the twins might have that kind of effect on some bots._ To say that he'd been surprised when she'd come flying into the rec room in total fear and tried to hide against him for comfort would be an understatement. He'd been shocked. They barely knew each other, yet Starwish seemed to instinctively trust him. Not that Jazz minded much, he considered himself a femme's-mech after all. But still, it had come as a hefty surprise.

Jazz briefly wondered what she had been doing out in the hallway in the first place. _I hear a bout of snooping in my future. First step, befriend her._ "The twins aren't so bad yah know. Sunstreaka an' Sideswipe Ah mean. Sunstreaka's a bit of a hard helm an' Sides is too cocky fo' 'is own good, but they wouldn' have hurt yah. Unless sittin' down for joors on end so Sunny can paint yah portrait counts as harm."

Starwish looked over at him curiously, "Sunstreaker paints?"

Jazz nodded, "Yea, real good too. Mech knows how ta blend colors like no bot's business. Always lookin' for a new subject ta paint. Thah's probably why he followed yah, wanted yah ta model for him."

She seemed to consider this, "Huh, I guess that explains his paint job."

Jazz grinned, "Yah, it's a bit on tha shiny side ain't it?"

Starwish giggled at his understatement, "Maybe a little bit, I suppose- Zipline! Stop hitting your brother with Soundwave! Fast Track, stop shoving Prowl in Zipline's face! Don't make me come over there! I'm **not** afraid to make you quit racing and go back to the med-bay!" The two younglings guiltily stopped attacking each other with their plushies and went back to their game. Jazz kept his expression neutral, _why are their toys named after a Decepticon and Prowler?_ Starwish, oblivious to his musings, shook her head and muttered something about, 'mechlings' before resuming her conversation with a bemused Jazz, "Sorry, I was going to say that I suppose I shouldn't have run away from them like that."

Jazz waved a servo dismissively, "Don' worry about it. They shouldn't have been there anyhow."

Starwish looked concerned, "Will they be in a lot of trouble?"

Jazz laughed, "No more than usual, femme. Prowl's been threatenin' to put their name plates on a cell in tha brig an make them move inta it. Mechs practically live there anyway."

Starwish's faceplates twitched like she was fighting a laugh. Apparently, raising two little brothers made her sympathetic to Prowl, "I know the feeling."

Jazz started to say something to her when his internal com pinged, ::Optimus Prime to Jazz.::

He held up a finger to halt the conversation for a moment, ::Jazz here.::

Although his leader's voice was as calm as ever, Jazz's trained audio picked up the serious edge in it, ::I need you to attend an emergency meeting in my office in two breems. Ratchet said he has something important to show us about our guests.::

From behind the safety of his visor, Jazz glanced at Starwish, who was watching him inquisitively. ::Ah'm currently on patient monitor duty, Prime.::

Optimus assured him swiftly, ::First Aid is already on his way to keep an optic on them.::

Jazz nodded even though Prime couldn't see the motion, ::In thah case, Ah'm on mah way. Jazz out.:: Jazz turned to Starwish, "Prime called, gotta go see ta somethin'. First Aid will be showin' up soon ta help yah manage the twins over there."

She blinked at him once before nodding her understanding, "Uh, okay. Thank you for keeping us company, Jazz."

Jazz smiled winningly at her and tipped his servo to his helm in a casual salute as he bounced for the door, "It was mah pleasure, Star. See yah later." He faintly heard her call a farewell just as the door to the rec room slid shut. Jazz took off down the halls at a speedy trot, ::Yo, 'Hide. Yah done beatin' the slag out of tha twins yet? We got a meetin' with Prime ta attend.::

Ironhide's voice grumbled over the com, ::I know, I know. I'm on my way there now.::

Jazz turned the corner, ::Weren't finished yet were yah?::

Ironhide snorted, ::Oh, I was finished, I just had to escort them to the brig afterwards so that they'd keep their vocalizers shut about our guests until Prime can have a chat with them.::

Jazz spotted Ironhide and Prowl coming from the opposite direction and waved casually, "Ah didn't hear any screams o' agony. Does thah mean yah left Sunstreaka's paint job in tact?"

Ironhide shrugged, "Didn't have time to wreck it. Prowl here was already waiting for me with stasis cuffs and an order to throw them in the brig." Prowl didn't comment as the bigger mech palmed the controls to the door and they walked inside, Jazz close on their heels.

There was a general silence as a few select mechs and femme gathered around Optimus Prime's desk to find out why Ratchet had called an emergency meeting. Jazz glanced at the assembly, Ultra Magnus, being Optimus's Elite Guard Commander, stood stiffly to the right to the Prime's desk. Prowl, being the security officer, stood on the left side. Ironhide, Chromia, and Mirage stood at various places near the desk, waiting for the meeting to start.

Optimus sat behind the desk, servos studiously folded together, he motioned to the obviously upset Ratchet, "We have all assembled old friend. What is it that has you concerned about the newest additions on our base?"

Ratchet set a holo-emitter on the desk and huffed, "A better question, Optimus, would be what **doesn't** have me concerned. I just finished studying the last results of the processor scans I ran on all four of them a joor ago. These are the results." He activated the holo-emitter and Jazz studied the readouts with curiosity.

Chromia drawled irritably, "Mind explaining what all of that medical jabber on the screen actually **means**, Ratchet?"

Ultra Magnus shot her a dark look for her tone as Ratchet began pointing to different parts of the holo image, "This is the scan taken from Starwish. As I reported to Prime earlier, I estimate her age to be around seventy two vorns. Here is an image of the average processor at that age." The image flickered and switched to a different one before shrinking and settling beside the image of Starwish's processor scan, "Look at the differences between the two, here and here." Ratchet pointed out two different sections of the processor.

A few kliks passed in silence. _Her scan don' look right._ "Ah see it. There's a difference in her language core thah ain't in tha other image. What does it mean?"

Ratchet nodded briefly to Jazz for spotting what was wrong, "It means that whenever she speaks, her processor is **translating** it to Cybertronian from a different language."

Ironhide crossed his arms over his chest, "Couldn't it just be translating it to standard Cybertronian from a different dialect?"

Ratchet shook his head, "No, I've already checked that possibility. Whatever language was first programed into her mind, it is not **any** Cybertronian dialect. It is something entirely different. It is the same for the rest of them. All four are subconsciously translating their words from one language to another."

Ultra Magnus asked, "Doctor, is that even possible? For a Cybertronian to not know their own language?"

Optimus nodded, "It is rare, but not unheard of. During the Age of Exploration, a few of those who were onlined on distant worlds inadvertently learned the language of the native inhabitants before learning Cybertronian."

Ironhide protested, "But Optimus, the Age of Exploration has been over for megacycles. How could that apply here?"

"Novalek City." All optics swung to Prowl. The ultra logical mech was studying the processor scan thoughtfully, "Novalek City was founded by the mechs and femmes who returned at the end of the Great Exploration. They formed a community separate from the rest of Cybertron based on the many diverse cultures they had observed in secret during their time among the stars. It was also a fairly common practice for creators to teach their sparklings a non-Cybertronian language first, then Cybertronian standard, so that they could converse with their creation in any situation without risk of being overheard by those living outside Novalek."

Ratchet shook his head, "But Novalek City fell at the very beginning of the great war. There were no survivors, everyone in the city was murdered and they are too young to have been onlined before the war."

Mirage tapped his chin thoughtfully, "Perhaps, but what if their creators were outside the city when it was destroyed? A few citizens of Novalek did leave and settle elsewhere as time went on."

The members of the meeting pondered the new possibility. Jazz asked, "Wha' makes yah think they're creators were from Novalek, Mirage? Yah have anotha' reason besides Ratch's scan o' their language cores."

Mirage hesitated, "I do actually. I was there when the twins first saw Starwish a few breems ago. She was dancing at the time," he paused, "she was dancing a perfect Bellakata solo."

Chromia sighed, "I hate to be the one to sound stupid. But what the slag is Bellakata?"

Mirage dipped his head in Chromia's direction, "Bellakata was a specialized dance form created by the residents of Novalek City. It was an interpretive style of dance, meant to tell stories of their exploration in musical form. Only residents of Novalek, or their descendants, were allowed to learn Bellakata. It was considered a high honor for a non-citizen to observe one of their performances."

Ultra Magnus nodded his head firmly, "Very well, given the evidence provided, it would appear that the refugees are descendants of Novalek survivors." He glanced at Ratchet, "You have other concerns, Doctor?"

Ratchet looked uneasy, "While that theory does clear away some of their eccentricities. I also found glitches in their programming and memory cores. Fortunately the glitches are not **too** serious, but there are enough of them to cause concern."

Optimus leaned his elbows on the desk, "Such as?"

Ratchet rattled off the list, "The perceived need to utilize their vents more often than necessary, minor encryption malfunctions in their memory cores, modifications have been recently added to their frames yet there is no automatic connection coding, thus leading to an inability to control said modifications, an abhorring lack of subspace command subroutines, the list goes on and on."

The medic tapped the fingers of his right hand on his left arm, "By themselves, these ... oddities in their coding and frames could be dismissed as an easily ignored or cured oversight by whoever first programed their cortexes. But to find so many of them … and in bots who have no CNA relation, excepting the twins, it is an almost definite sign that their programing and frames have been severely tampered with."

A stunned silence briefly fell on the assembled group. _Tampered, well thats a pretty thought and no mistake._ Chromia asked, "Shockwave? Could he have done it?"

Ratchet shook his head, "Absolutely not. Shockwave, while he may be a sadistic mech, is an expert at processor reprogramming. There is no chance that he would leave this many mistakes in the wake of his work. Furthermore, I have detected no signs of Decepticon or slave coding within any of them. Although ... in Starwish, there is an unidentified strand of coding pertaining to her prosthetic modifications."

Ironhide looked confused, "Prosthetics?"

Ratchet shot the weapons specialist a dry look, "Yes, prosthetics. You did not think those two protrusions on her shoulders were natural parts of her frame did you? They are additional limbs, for what purpose I do not yet know. But they are there none the less."

Ironhide gave an unsettled grunt in response. Prowl asked grimly, "Do you have any insight as to who may have done this? Or what side effects the tampering may have caused?"

Ratchet absently placed his servos on his hips, "No. There is no one I can think of who might have attempted such a travesty without the skill set to fully pull it off, which the tamperer did **not**. As to side effects, it is hard to tell. Some of them are obvious and have been mentioned previously, a tendency to use their vents, lack of control over subspace, but other side effects may stem from the procedure itself. They may be instinctively afraid of certain situations or beings because they will be reminded of the tampering procedure. Or they might not be, it is simply too early to tell."

Optimus rubbed a finger along the bottom of his jaw thoughtfully, "What do you suggest we do?"

Ratchet answered without hesitation, "We keep them monitored and in as friendly an environment as possible. They have already shown tendencies towards being a family unit, so I would advice we use that to our advantage."

Optimus nodded, "Explain."

Ratchet shot a brief glance at Ironhide and Chromia, "We give them each a guardian. Complete the family unit mentality as much a possible. The friendly and familiar atmosphere could go a long way in their processors' self-repair protocols."

Jazz shot a long look in the direction of Ironhide and Chromia. The two were not the only ones in the army to be sparkmated, but they were currently the only pair on base. Excepting Optimus, but his sparkmate was currently off base and they were both far too busy for a youngling. Besides, Ironhide and Chromia had done a marvelous job raising Bumblebee so far. They were the obvious choice.

Ironhide and Chromia were staring at each other intently, no doubt engaging in a spark to spark talk over their bond. They finally turned to Optimus, Ironhide looked as if he was reading off a death sentence, "As much as we would love to, Prime. We can't. Bumblebee may be fairly mature, but he still needs our full attention. We just aren't ready to handle new arrivals."

Optimus nodded, "Understood Ironhide, I know that you speak out for Bumblebee's sake. I will have to give this matter much consideration. Is there anything else we need to cover, Ratchet?"

Ratchet shook his head, "For now, no. But I may need to call another meeting if I find anything else."

Optimus dipped his head, "Very well, old friend. Autobots, dismissed."

Jazz saluted Prime and filed out of his office with the rest of them with the exception of Prowl and Ratchet, who stayed behind with the mutter of 'I have something else to discuss with you and Optimus'. Jazz's thoughts swirling from point to point. He did his best to take in the things Ratchet had revealed in the meeting. He thought back to what Ratchet had said about side effects, _Ratch' said that they might prove terrified of situations similar to the tampering procedure. Could that include events leading up to it?_ Jazz remembered the recent event of Starwish fleeing from the twins in blind terror, _Maybe she was jumped by two mechs in the street right before it happened._

The normally calm and collected saboteur had to pause in the hallway to keep from hitting something. _Messing with others helms like that! If I ever find the fragger who did that to them, I'm gonna blast him to bits!_

* * *

Optimus Prime sat in his office, musing over the information revealed in the meeting and Ratchet's suggested course of action. It would have been preferable if Ironhide and Chromia had been able to take at least the younglings. But he understood that Bumblebee could be a handful, they did not need the added burden. Also weighing on his processor was the information Ratchet had revealed privately to him and Prowl after the meeting. Although he had felt it unwise to reveal it in front of the others, Ratchet had stayed behind to tell them a few more facts about his new patients.

One of those facts had been that the only reason the processor tampering could cause a lack of subspace subroutines was that whoever did the tampering had overridden the codes in order to forcibly access another's subspace. While it was normally impossible for a Cybertronian to access anyone else's subspace but their own, there was a certain, illegal, method that could grant a skilled enough medic temporary access to another's subspace to either remove items or place items inside the violated subspace.

The other and most disturbing of the facts was that the unidentifiable string of code in Starwish's processor **was** in a language Ratchet recognized. It was the language of the Primes. Ratchet had given Optimus a copy of the code to study and, while he had been unable to decipher it's full extent, he had managed to translate one phrase._ Herald's Wings … an odd phrase to be sure. What could it have to do with her prosthetics? Why would someone forcibly place the code inside an innocent femme's processor?_

He sighed and shook his head grimly, as if the war wasn't complicated enough. Pulling out a datapad he pulled up a full roster of all available Autobots on base and began to study it for the most suitable possible caretakers for his new charges. One by one, he considered and discarded the various mechs on base as caretakers for the youngling twins. All of them were either too busy or not youngling friendly.

Just as his inward frustration was reaching its peak, Prowl commed him, ::Prowl to Prime.::

Optimus heaved a sigh and set down the datapad, ::Prime here, what is the situation, Prowl?::

Prowl's voice, while as cold and logical as ever had an unmistakable edge of irritation to it, ::The twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe disobeyed orders and infiltrated the cordoned off section of the base. I had Ironhide place them in the brig until they could be dealt with. Do you wish to deal with them personally or shall I?::

The faintest hint of an idea niggled at his processor, ::Did they make contact with the refugees?::

Prowl answered, ::Yes, sir. According to Ironhide, they pursued Starwish into the rec room and were physically assaulted by the younglings for scaring her.::

The idea blossomed into a viable plan. Optimus settled back in his chair and ran the new plan over in his mind. The twins always seemed to have plenty of time on their servos. Enough time to pull off elaborate pranks anyway, and Optimus had long wished for a means to teach them greater responsibility to others.

Optimus nodded to himself, yes, that would do nicely, ::Please escort them to my office, Prowl. I have something special in mind for them.::

If Prowl was at all curious about what his leader meant, his voice did not show it, ::Understood sir, Prowl out.::

Optimus subspaced his datapad and waited patiently for Prowl and the twins to arrive. While he waited, his thoughts turned to the impending matter of where the dainty femme Starwish would reside. He couldn't risk placing her with any of the unmated mechs on base, and Ironhide had already made it clear that he and Chromia couldn't take her. Besides, he doubted Chromia and Starwish would get along, seeing as how Chromia had mistakenly shot her brother.

At the moment there were no other femme's on base and assigning a mech, no matter how respectable, was simply begging for wild rumors and total disaster. There were no spare rooms and even if there were, Ratchet would never allow her to go through the long lunar cycle without someone nearby to keep an optic on her. So where could she stay once Ratchet discharged her from the med-bay?

His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door to his inner office. Optimus raised his head and called, "Come in." Prowl opened the door and steered the trouble making twins inside. Sunstreaker was scowling darkly, his helm was dented and there was signs of bruising on his faceplates. Sideswipe was in a similar state of defiance and mild damage. Ironhide had no doubt given them a going over for scaring Starwish, the bulky black mech had a huge soft spot for femmes and younglings.

Prowl stood by the door, his expression a silent question, "Thank you, Prowl. Dismissed." Prowl saluted and left without a word. Once the door had shut and Prowl was gone, Optimus turned his optics to the twins. Sideswipe shifted nervously, no doubt wondering what his commander had in mind for him. Sunstreaker continued to scowl at the floor stubbornly, pointedly refusing to look uneasy.

Optimus stood up and walked slowly around the desk so he was facing the twins without any obstructions between them. "I am told that you took particular interest in the new arrivals to our base."

Sideswipe nodded, "Uh, yes sir. I suppose we did."

Optimus looked over at Sunstreaker, waiting for his answer. The golden mech huffed slightly, "Yeah, we did. We didn't mean to startle the femme though, Sideswipe and I just wanted to meet them. Sir." The 'sir' was added as an after thought, yet another obvious indicator of Sunstreaker's anti-social tendencies.

Optimus said gently, "You are not in trouble, you two. In fact, your actions alerted me to your favorability for an upcoming assignment."

Sideswipe immediately perked up at his words but Sunstreaker remained skeptical, "What assignment would that be, sir?" This time the sir was immediate. Sunstreaker was being respectful in hopes of avoiding an unfavorable assignment.

Optimus actually allowed a small smile onto his faceplates, "You met the youngling twins Zipline and Fast Track, did you not?" Sideswipe and Sunstreaker nodded, "In a few cycles, Ratchet will be releasing them from med-bay. As such, they will need caretakers and a place to stay. While Ironhide and Chromia were both amendable to the task, they could not accept it on the grounds of still being fully occupied with Bumblebee."

Both of the mischief makers were beginning to look uneasy now, they had a sneaking suspicion of what they were about to be saddled with. Optimus completely hid his amusement at their looks and continued, "It has been brought to my attention through your actions that perhaps the best caretakers for twins, would be twins."

Sunstreaker went stiff, "With all do respect, sir. But no. Just no. I have enough trouble keeping Sideswipe online and out of danger! I don't need **more** glitches to take care of!"

Sideswipe glared at his brother briefly, "Hey! I am not a glitch! Besides, who said you would be taking care of them? I'm the one who gets stuff done!"

Optimus remained unmoved as the two started arguing with him about their validity as guardians. When they finally fell silent once more, Optimus said cooly, "Your reservations have been noted. However, you will never learn to handle more responsibility if you do not gain more. Taking care of younglings **is** a great undertaking, but it is also a great honor. To care for and raise the next generation is one of the highest honors a mech or femme can ever have in their lifetime. I expect you two to **both** take this assignment seriously."

He fixed them with a stern stare, "Treat your new charges with respect and devotion. They will be officially released into your care in four cycles time. Dismissed."

The twins stared at him with their mouths agape, unable to believe that he had really just done what he did. Sunstreaker snapped his mouth plates shut with a click and an audible growl of outrage. Sideswipe merely continued to stare blankly at his commanding officer as if he'd gone insane. Optimus raised an optic ridge, "Is there a problem?"

Sunstreaker blurted, "Slag right there's a problem! What do we know about caring for younglings? Nothing! How do you expect us to care for them when we have no idea how?"

Optimus allowed a smile back onto his face as he calmly steered the twins to the door of his office, "I am sure Ratchet, Ironhide, or Chromia will be more than willing to answer any questions you have on youngling care. Good cycle and good luck." Before they could start protesting again, Optimus lightly nudged them out into the hall and shut the door, locking it firmly. Once he was alone in his inner office, Optimus allowed a deep chuckle to rumble from his chest. Their reactions had been priceless. _This will also give them a chance to mature. Being responsible for younglings is a great task, but one I am sure they can learn to handle._

His chuckles died off, _Now to find places of residence for the other two._ Optimus settled back in his chair, running the problem over in his mind. Hardwire was the easiest of the two problems as he was a legal adult in his own right and didn't technically need a guardian. Also, over the past two metacycles Ratchet had been clearly impressed with the newly adult mech, even confiding in Optimus that he believed the tale Hardwire had told him about his mech creator being a Decepticon and his past caretakers being too poor to remove the Decepticon brand from his frame. The scans he had secretly run on the mech had proved it beyond a doubt.

According to Ratchet, Hardwire was patient, respectful, and easygoing. Good traits in a mech who would inevitably have a roommate. Pulling out the datapad with the list of mechs on it, he resumed perusing it. Finally, his optic settled on one particular entry. A former construction worker and recent transfer from the Wrecker ranks. _Bulkhead, hmm, that might work._

Optimus easily recalled Bulkhead, the mildly impulsive and highly clumsy Wrecker had requested a transfer to Optimus's command just in time for the recent battle of Thunderhead Pass. Bulkhead had impressed Optimus with his strength and willingness to sacrifice for others during that battle as the Wrecker had willingly thrown himself in the path of a plasma shot meant for Prime. However, as well liked as Bulkhead was, he had yet to acquire a roommate because of his immense size. Others didn't want to get accidentally crushed by the lumbering green giant.

_Perhaps ... _Optimus pulled up a statistical readout Ratchet had sent him of the four refugees. Hardwire's readout confirmed his memory. Hardwire was a very tall mech, a little bit taller than Bulkhead in fact. He would have no worries about being crushed under his roommate's girth if the Wrecker happened to stumble and fall on him. Both were fairly easygoing and good natured, both were new to the base. It stood to reason that those similarities would go a long way into their getting along. Taking a pen, he quickly made a note beside Bulkhead's name to transfer Hardwire to Bulkhead's berth room once he was released from Ratchet's care in two metacycles.

_And then there was one._ He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling as if it might inspire an answer. It didn't and Optimus continued to struggle with the problem Starwish presented. If only he knew a mech who hardly even used his quarters at all, who was above and beyond reproach, and who wouldn't glitch out at the prospect of having a young femme stay in his quarters until Elita and her team returned.

A random thought flitted through his mind, _a mech like Ultra Magnus._ Optimus froze, wondering what had sparked **that** thought. But as it stubbornly bounced back into his processor, it began to make more sense. Ultra Magnus would have no intentions towards the femme, he had spacious two berth room quarters that had been given him due to his rank, and their close proximity might give him the opportunity to monitor her for glitches. Also, Ultra Magnus had once had a sparkmate, so there would be no doubt as to his respectability. Former mates never took another, or even showed interest in the opposite gender after their mate was lost.

_Ratchet and Ultra Magnus are going to offline me for this._ Picking up his pen again, he made a note beside Ultra Magnus's name. A note that assigned Starwish to be the tactician's ward once she was released from the med-bay. His list complete, Optimus made a report version of it and copied the report onto several data chips. That done he intercommed Ratchet, Prowl, and Ultra Magnus that he had reports and assignments for them to read as soon as possible.

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Konnichi wa (hello in Japanese)! I have returned with chapter seven! I would just like to say thank you to everyone reading, reviewing, following, and favoriting this story. I am really touched by how many views I've received. The total view count has surpassed that of my other story and this one has been up less than half the time! So, thank you all very much.**

**Review response: Dear Shadow fang the black wolf, hi! I was snickering the entire time I wrote the end of the last chapter. Unfortunately, the scene in which Ultra Magnus, Ratchet, etc receive Optimus's report just didn't fit into the flow of the story, so you'll have to imagine the fireworks display. I might do a one-shot of it later though. I struggled for quite a while over where in the timeline Starwish and her family were going to be dropped. Originally, it was going to be much closer to the Exodus from Cybertron, but when I was trying to pick out a guardian for Starwish, a good friend of mine commented that it would be humorous to see her become the ward of a former drill sergeant. I loved the idea, but since the only 'drill sergeant' I know of is Ultra Magnus, I decided to pull the timeline back and hold off Wheeljack's grand appearance until a while later. But don't worry, he'll show up in the story eventually.**

**Dear Savvy Orion, hello! No sympathetic feelings, eh? I don't think any of the other Autobots would blame you, what goes around comes around as they say, and Sunny and Sides are going to get a taste of what Prowl goes through with them. Thank you! I was hoping that I was writing the twins correctly. Novalek City is not an actual city on Cybertron, I made it up so that Star and the others would (unknowingly) have an excuse for their eccentricities. Ultra Magnus was a bit of a surprise to me too at first, I was originally going to make Ratchet her guardian, but, as stated in a review response above, the drill sergeant idea was too good to pass up so I changed it. Competition? Between Jazz and Sides? Why, my dear Savvy Orion what ever are you talking of? (overly-innocent blinking while hiding sly smile) Seriously though, I am not exactly sure what you mean. If you are wondering whether or not those two are going to start competing for Starwish's affections, then the answer is probably, but I'm not sure yet.**

**Dear jd009, greetings! I am very glad you enjoyed the last chapter. Both pairs of twins are really fun to write, though Zip and Track are my favorites (naturally). Sunny and Sides are going to have their servos full for the next few vorns or so, but hopefully the experience will help them mature and stabilize. Either that or everyone on base is going to be driven insane. Bulkhead is one of my favorite characters in Transformers Prime, I just couldn't resist adding in his lovable yet clumsy charm. Be warned though, when he does make an official appearance, he may act more like the Transformers Animated Bulkhead at time as that was the first example I ever had of the character. About four chapters or so from now I have written a chapter specifically for Hardwire, so yes, I will be exploring his character more over time. It's just that since he's currently stuck to a medbay berth with a shot ****leg, there isn't much for him to do that would show off his personality. Ultra Magnus is an interesting character, I wish he'd gotten more screen time in Transformers Prime season 3. Still, I'll do my best to make his (non-romantic) relationship with Starwish interesting. As for your last question, yes, Starwish's dance form is mostly Ballet but with a little bit of acrobatics mixed in sometimes.**

**Dear TFAN Override, hello and welcome to FanFiction! Your request has been granted, here is another chapter. Enjoy!**

**Author's Note: Shorter chapter than the last two, but it seemed to want to end where it did.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs, Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, and Buffer.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Roommates and Meetings**

Starwish watched as Ratchet finished preparing Zipline and Fast Track's release form. She could tell that he was furious about something by the way he muttered and scowled as he worked. Ratchet looked up, "Well, these forms are almost complete. The twins can be released from my care as soon as their ... new caretakers arrive to sign for them."

Starwish frowned slightly, she was nervous enough about the fact that she wouldn't be the twins official caretaker. But Ratchet had explained to her that, as she was not fully of age, she couldn't be their guardian. "Is ... something wrong with their caretakers?"

Ratchet glanced at her, his gaze guarded, "No ... it is just ... their guardians and I do not get along." He saw her uneasy look and hastily reassured her, "However, if Prime believes them to be the right choice for you siblings, then I am in no position to argue."

Starwish nodded slowly, "All right. But who are their guardians?" The door to the med-bay slid open, unintentionally answering her question. _You've got to be kidding._

Two mechs, one golden, one red, rolled slowly into the med-bay on wheeled pedes, "Hey Ratch', we're here!"

Ratchet grumbled darkly at the two, "Yes, yes. Sign here you two. Though why Optimus decided you two were ready to be guardians is a mystery to me."

Sunstreaker glared at Ratchet as he signed his name on the datapad form, "Well don't look at us for answers. Where are the runts?"

Starwish bristled at the insulting term and reached up to grab Sunstreaker's arm, ignoring his protest about his finish, "Listen up, mech. They are not 'runts' they have names, Zipline and Fast Track, and you **will** address them as such. If a full name is too tricky for you to use then call them Zip and Track. But never, **ever** call my brothers runts. Understand me?"

Sunstreaker stared blankly at her hand for several kliks and then looked at her. As he replied, Starwish thought she spotted a hint of grudging respect in his optics, "Understood, femme. Where are 'Zip and Track'?"

She relaxed slightly and let go of his arm, trying to ignore how closely Sideswipe was staring at her ... the red mech's wink didn't help matters any. Motioning with her hand, Starwish answered, "Hiding under the berth over there, I think they're trying to ambush Ratchet but he won't go near them."

Unintentionally proving her point, Zipline stuck his head out from under the berth and hissed, "Shh! Quiet Star! You'll give us away!" Ratchet rolled his optics and muttered something about 'twins'.

Sideswipe finished signing his name on the form and turned to Starwish, "Don't worry, Starwish, Sunny and I will take good care of your brothers. Front-liner's honor."

He leaned a little bit close for comfort but was immediately dragged back by his brother, "Come on, s-"

Ratchet smacked Sunstreaker on the head with a wrench without looking up from his datapad, "No swearing around younglings."

Starwish was fairly certain she could hear the gears in Sunstreaker's jaw grinding as the golden twin rephrased, "Come on, **Sides**, we're here to get the run ... younglings. Not flirt with their sister." Sideswipe began arguing with his brother until Ratchet threatened to weld them both to the ceiling if they didn't take their new charges and get out of his med-bay.

Of course, just when that was settled, it turned out that Zipline and Fast Track wanted nothing to do with Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. The two smaller twins stubbornly refused to come out from under the berth, even when Sideswipe offered to play with them back at their quarters. Finally Sunstreaker rolled his optics and shoved his brother out of the way, "Let me, you gli-ttering idiot."

Crouching down by the berth, Sunstreaker produced something from his subspace and held it within sight of the hidden twins, "Here."

There was a pause before Zipline's muffled voice asked, "What is it?"

Starwish noticed Sideswipe jolt slightly in surprise at the question as Sunstreaker grunted, "An energon candy. You want it or am I going to have to eat it all by myself?" There was a scramble of pedes as Zipline and Fast Track emerged from their hiding place, each one dragging a plushy absentmindedly behind them as they stared eagerly at the glowing pink candy in Sunstreaker's hand. Zipline reached for it but Sunstreaker held it just out of reach, "What do you say?"

Zipline and Fast Track chorused together, "Please!" Sunstreaker nodded in approval and handed them each an energon candy. Starwish watched in fascination and mild concern as her siblings popped the pink, oval shaped treats in their mouths and instantly started bouncing with excitement, "This is great!"

Ratchet called warningly, "Don't give them too many of those Sunstreaker, or they won't be able to recharge at night."

Sunstreaker grunted, "I know." Standing up, he motioned to Zip and Track, "Come on you two. Sideswipe has some vid games set up for you to try."

The two were at his feet in an instant, "Yay!" Sunstreaker visibly winced as they grabbed at his legs with their now mildly sticky hands. He growled something about his finish as Sideswipe lured the younglings away from his brother with more candy.

As Sideswipe raced out the door with the twins and his brother hot on his heels, Ratchet called indignantly, "What did I just say about candy?" The door slid shut without reply and the medic huffed angrily, "They're either going to ignore those two or spoil them rotten. I don't know which is more likely."

Starwish couldn't help but smile, "At least they get along. The twins can be regular monsters if they don't like their caretaker." Ratchet just shook his head in disgust and resumed fiddling with his datapad.

Starwish watched him for a little while before asking, "Um, am I getting released today?"

Ratchet nodded, "You are, I am preparing your form right now for when your new guardian shows up."

She felt a tiny twinge of pain in her chest at his words, _new. Because I'm on a world where my old ones cannot follow._ Starwish may not have been very close to her foster parents, but she still missed them dearly, "Who ... who is my new guardian?"

Ratchet glanced at her, "You'll find out soon enough." _Why do I get the distinct impression that he's not telling me for a reason?_ Sensing her unease, Ratchet saw fit to add, "Do not be concerned, your guardian is a very upstanding and reasonable mech. I'm sure you and he will get along as long as you follow proper protocol."

Starwish fell silent and watched Ratchet work. _Follow proper protocol? What has that got to do with anything? Unless my new guardian is a rule nut._ Another part of Ratchet's words sunk home, _wait, I'm going to be living in the quarters of whoever Optimus has chosen for my guardian ... and Ratchet just said that my guardian is an upstanding and reasonable _**_mech_**_. Oh boy._ "You said mech."

Ratchet grunted as he set the datapad down and began working on a dented stasis inducer, "Yes, I did. The only femme currently on base is Chromia and as she is already a guardian, Prime felt that is would be unfair to assign you to her. He also held reservations as to whether or not you two would have gotten along."

Starwish grimaced, _yeah, 'reservations' on whether or not I'd get along with the woman who shot my brother in the leg? I wonder why._ "When is my new guardian arriving?"

Ratchet huffed, "Soon. Soon enough in fact that you should feel no pressing urge to speak to me about him lest he comes through that door and overhears you." _If that isn't a hint to shut up I don't know what is._

"Yes, sir." Starwish decided that perhaps reading to pass the time would be better than pestering Ratchet and proceeded to stare down at her hands. First Aid had cheerfully given her a few novels to keep once he'd heard she was being released soon and Starwish was curious to discover what Cybertronian novels were like. It took a seconds of hard concentration before she managed to access her subspace and mentally rummage through it for the datapad containing the novels.

With a final whir of gears and a triumphant cry, she pulled the datapad free and settled back on a nearby berth to read the first novel listed. Soon, her mind was far away, racing through the twisted streets of Venatici City on the hunt for a dangerous criminal in a mystery/adventure novel surprisingly similar to stories written by earth authors such as Timothy Zahn.

She was so absorbed in her reading that she didn't hear the door open, Starwish wasn't even aware that anyone had arrived in the med-bay until Ratchet spoke and startled her out of her novel, "There you are, Commander. What took you so long? You're late."

Starwish looked up from her book as a deep baritone voice answered in precise military tones, "I apologize for my untimely arrival, Doctor. There was a complication at the meeting that needed my attention." She openly stared at the positively towering red and sky blue mech standing straight backed and stern, conversing with Ratchet. _Oh you have _**_got_**_ to be kidding._

Ratchet glanced over his shoulder, saw her staring, and made a coughing noise to claim her attention, "Starwish, meet your new guardian, Ultra Magnus."

Starwish had to crane her head back slightly to see his face, _and I'm sitting on a high surface. Now I know how chihuahuas feel._ Even though she felt more inclined to run away and hide in Hardwire's room, Starwish forced herself to slide off of the berth and attempt a military posture as she greeted the Elite Guard mech, "Sir. A ... a pleasure to meet you."

* * *

Ultra Magnus looked down at the small white femme Optimus had assigned him to care for and once again felt a wave of hopeless confusion crash through his processors. She was, in his optics, tiny, frail, and obviously intimidated. Her greeting was incredibly hesitant and her attempt at standing at attention was ... admirable if incorrect. He dipped his head politely, "The pleasure is all mine, miss."

Turning to Ratchet he said, "I believe there are a number of forms that require my signature before Starwish is released into my custody?"

Ratchet nodded and handed him a datapad, "Just one, actually. Since she is almost of age anyway. Just sign your name at the bottom and we'll be done here." Ultra Magnus quickly scanned the release form before signing his name on the provided line, stubbornly fighting the queasy feeling in his tanks as he did so. He knew why Optimus had chosen for him to share his quarters with the young femme, he was responsible, respectable, and he had a spare berth room in his quarters. He was the logical choice since Prime himself was too busy.

However, logic did not stop his spark from pulsing nervously as he handed the datapad back to Ratchet and turned to face his slender new charge once more. Doing his best to keep his unease out of his voice, Ultra Magnus said, "If you will gather any personal belongings not in your subspace and follow me please."

She nodded, "I- yes, sir. I just have to say goodbye to Hardwire." Turning, she scampered quickly away, her pedes making soft clicking noises on the floor. Ultra Magnus watched her disappear through one of the med-bay doors and inwardly wondered what he had done in life to warrant such a frail looking complication.

Ratchet said quietly, "Permission to offer advice, Commander?"

Ultra Magnus nodded, "Permission granted, Doctor. You may speak freely."

Ratchet was keeping his eyes studiously on the datapad as he spoke, "Take it easy on her for the first few metacycles. As I clearly stated in the meeting a few cycles ago, she already has enough problems and trauma in her life without worrying about memorizing every regulation in the Autobot army. She is not a soldier in any way and will most likely not take kindly to being treated as such."

Ultra Magnus felt the urge to remind Ratchet that the refugees may not have been part of the army before, but they inevitably were now and should be receiving training as soon as possible. He resisted however, knowing from experience that the mildly unrestrained Doctor would take it as a reprimand and a slight against his medical expertise. Instead he merely stated, "I will take your words under advisement, Doctor."

Ratchet muttered something unintelligible as he finishing filing the release form and subspaced the datapad. Starwish reemerged from the private wing of the med-bay, First Aid following her and talking cheerfully. Starwish was smiling up that the medic and saying, "Thank you for the blanket, First Aid. Are you sure you won't need it?"

First Aid shook his head, "Oh, no, it's fine. We have plenty to spare." The medical assistant spotted Ultra Magnus and snapped to attention, "Sir."

Ultra Magnus made a tiny motion with his hand, "At ease soldier. Starwish, are you ready to depart?"

She nodded and shifted slightly from one pede to the other, "Yes sir, I'm ready."

Ultra Magnus stepped aside and motioned for her to go ahead of him, "Then let us go." Starwish dipped her head submissively and trotted out of the med-bay doors at his side. An uncomfortable silence fell over the two as they strode down the halls towards Ultra Magnus's quarters, the stares they were getting from passing mechs didn't help much either. Magnus shot the staring loiterers a hooded look that sent them packing. They knew he was not afraid to put them in the brig for dereliction of duty.

Finally, Starwish breached the silence, "Thank you for taking me, sir. You didn't have too."

Ultra Magnus frowned slightly at her words, "I'm afraid you may be under a false impression, Starwish. Your posting with me was not a personal decision on my part. I was assigned the task of your welfare by Optimus Prime."

She fell silent for a klik or two, "Still, you could have protested I suppose. You're one of his highest ranking officers, if you had said 'no thank you' I'm sure he would have listened."

Ultra Magnus could not hide his disapproval, "One does not say 'no thank you' when given orders by a superior officer."

Starwish ducked her head slightly, "Of course, my mistake, sir." Ultra Magnus looked down at her and felt a twinge in his spark as memories of another femme floated close to the surface.

Trying to be compassionate, he said, "You are not to blame for the oversight. You are new to military protocol and how our army works. You will learn in time." She glanced up at him, her blue and red optics seeming to search his azure ones for a little bit before lowering to the floor again. The silence returned and this time remained for the rest of the trip.

Ultra Magnus tapped in the entry code to the door to his quarters, "This is where you will be staying from now on." He paused as the door slid open with an obliging hiss and he allowed her inside. "The door code is 6-0-7-3-4-5-1 and there is an emergency override just to the left of the inside panel in case a hacker changes the code to leave you locked inside."

She was absently nodding at his words while her optics alertly studied his quarters. If she thought them ridiculously bare she didn't say so. Ultra Magnus continued, laying down the rules systematically and calmly, "Meals are served in the pub or the rec room at 0600 and twelve noon however, snacks are served at all joors. Lights out on this base are at exactly 2200 joors. You are allowed access to these quarters, the rec room, the pub, the washracks, the med-bay, training rooms 1B through 4B, and the observatory unless otherwise stated."

Starwish had stopped examining the living area of his quarters and was now staring intently at him with a mildly incredulous look on her faceplates. Ultra Magnus fixed her with a stern look, "You are not to go to the bridge, the simulation chambers, any of the other training rooms **or **any of the mechs quarters unless in an emergency or accompanied by either myself or another high ranking officer. You may come and go as you please within reason but you must return here by 2100 **precisely**. Am I understood?"

Starwish blinked her optics once, twice, and a third time before asking suddenly, "Is your alt mode a helicopter?"

Ultra Magnus was caught off guard by her completely off topic question, "Uh ... no. My alternate mode is a ground vehicle. I do not have flight capabilities of any kind." His need to know if she understood all of his rules warred briefly with curiosity over her unexpected question before curiosity temporarily won out, "Why do you ask?"

Her faceplates briefly flushed a light blue and she waved the question away with her servo and a hasty mutter of, "No reason. I was just wondering."

Ultra Magnus scowled, if she was wondering about his alternate mode than she almost certainly had not been listening to him. Just to confirm, he asked sharply, "Were you paying attention to the rules and guidelines I just outlined?"

Now it was Starwish's turn to scowl slightly, "Of course."

Ultra Magnus remained unconvinced. He knew from experience with the twins that taking an adolescent bot's word for anything involving rules or lectures was asking for trouble later, "Repeat them, please."

Starwish's optics nearly rolling into her helm and for a klik he thought she was mocking him. But when her optics actually crossed and she began reciting his rules word for word, down to his own personal speech syntax, he realized with a jolt that her optic motion was a sign of her intense concentration. A rather disturbing sign at that. When she had finished repeating his previous words down to the last letter, he stared at her for almost a breem in disbelief before recovering and nodding shortly, "Very good. I expect those rules to be followed exactly."

She nodded quietly and Ultra Magnus almost missed the brief flash of resentment in her optics. Almost. He stared her down patiently, "Will that be a problem?"

Starwish shook her head, "No, sir. Not unless I get hopelessly lost in this base." The last sentence was muttered in a low tone that he had to strain to catch.

Ultra Magnus calmly retorted, "Do not hesitate to ask for directions if you become unsure of your location." She jumped a little bit at the realization that he had heard her before meekly mumbling 'yes sir'. His point made, he led her to a door on the left hand side, "This is your berth room. It is your responsibility to keep it neat and clean from now on." Pointing to his right he added, "That is the door to my room. You are not to enter it unless in the most dire of emergencies or I give you permission. The kitchen," he motioned to an open doorway off to the side, "is stocked with mid-grade energon and first aid supplies. Dinner is at 1800 joors."

Looking down he could tell that the femme was beginning to feel overwhelmed. Feeling sympathetic he added gently, "There are other things that need to be covered. But for this cycle however, I suggest you focus on settling in. You may go."

Starwish just gave another nod and scampered into her room without a word. Once her door had hissed shut, Ultra Magnus went to the couch, the only piece of furniture in the living area other than a highly polished energon table, and rubbed a servo over his optics. She hadn't even caused trouble yet and already he was getting a helm ache. Why had Optimus chosen him for this assignment again?


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello everyone! A new chapter for you!**

**Review response: Dear KHGiggle, hello! By shorter chapter I meant fifteen pages instead of say, twenty, which is more my average. I was intending to update sooner, but I have a very finite amount of prewritten chapters to post so I decided stick to my normal schedule. Don't worry, Hardwire and Bulkhead get the upcoming chapter ten all to themselves. Ultra Magnus is indeed complicated. When I first 'met' him in Transformers Prime season 3, I thought he was a bit of a stick in the mud. But after watching a few episodes with him in it, I got the impression that he really just doesn't know how to be informal around others. Hopefully Starwish can help fix that problem. Perhaps I should have described the optic thing better, what I meant was, her optics look up at the ceiling without tilting her head back. Oops. Anyway, in regards to your last question, Starwish just has an unusually good memory when it comes to things she hears. A bit like photographic memory, only for sound.**

**Dear TFAN Override, hi! Here is an update as requested! Just a side note, you don't talk much do you? That's okay though, I'm just glad that you're pleased with my story.**

**Dear Sunstreaker's Squishy, greetings and salutations! Yes, it could have been much worse. She could have had The Hatchet as her guardian! (shivers) By Hound or Trailbreaker, do you mean as a romantic interest, a friend, or a guardian? If you meant friend, then I agree with you wholeheartedly. The only problem is, I don't know them very well, especially Trailbreaker. I had to look him up when you mentioned him in fact. Oh well, maybe I can write them into the story later. Melody is not biologically related to the twins, she is their foster sister just like Hardwire is their foster brother. However, they consider each other close family because they were all raised by the same foster parents. Actually, I hadn't really thought about it until you mentioned it, but now ... (lets sentence trail off menacingly and cackles evilly while rubbing hands together) I hear another one-shot calling me ... or a future chapter.**

**Dear Shadow fang the black wolf hello again! I agree, poor Ultra Magnus. I've heard of Kup, isn't he Wrecker? I'll have to double check the Wiki for info about him. Hardwire is definitely going to have a tricky time of it, though Ratchet will no doubt buff out the 'con symbol before he leaves the medbay. Can't have his patient slagged right after he fixes him now can he? However, 'con symbol or no, there are plenty of things (such as his red optics) that can get Hardwire in trouble for no real reason. I am actually on the fence about that, but I'll probably be going in the direction of TFP. But who goes with whom when everyone leaves Cybertron I have yet to decide. I'm thinking Starwish will have some non-canon adventures with the femme squad or the other Autobots? I doubt Ultra Magnus would let her accompany him to become a Wrecker, far to many reckless mechs and dangerous missions (I mean, they are black ops). Still, I will take your suggestion under advisement. I haven't really thought much about the Dinobots, even if I like reading about them, so we'll just have to see if the story needs them later. As for Jazz and co, I've got a couple ideas but nothing solid. I was considering some kind of Star Wars/Transformers crossover at one point, but I have no real idea how that would work out. One thing I do know for sure is that eventually Jazz and some of the others with arrive on earth. I just don't know when in the timeline. Wheeljack will appear eventually, don't worry! Thank you for your Omakes suggestion, but I think that making a series of one-shots would fit my personal style better. Still, thank you!**

**Author's note: Bumblebee has arrived! He is a youngling version of Transformers Prime Bumblebee, think about twelve to thirteen in Cybertronian terms, and can still talk normally. Also, before anyone can ask, yes, I really wrote this chapter and I had an insanely illegal amount of fun doing so.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any reference made in this story. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs, Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, and Buffer.**

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**Chapter Eight: Entropy Squared**

Sunstreaker struggled not the grind his jaw gears in frustration as the Twin Sons of Unicron, as he had privately dubbed them, ran dangerously close to his paint supplies in an attempt to evade his pit-processored brother. _"Sideswipe! Stop running around in here! You're going to mess up my painting!"_

Sideswipe laughed as he snagged Fast Track and began to tickle the red and grey youngling, _"Relax Sunny! We're just playing!"_ Sunstreaker watched in nervous disgust as his brother was tackled by a giggling Zipline. _Allspark forbid, I've got three Sideswipe's now!_

Sunstreaker frantically grabbed at his easel to keep it from tipping over as Zipline crashed into it after being lightly tossed by Sideswipe. His paint supplies hit the ground with a spray colors and an agonized yell from their owner, "My paint!" The spilled paint spread across the floor, slicking the metal surface and making a complete mess. Zipline, now covered in wet paint, blinked sheepishly up at the infuriated Sunstreaker. The golden mech leapt to his pedes and roared at everyone else in the room, "**Enough**! Everyone out! **Out**!"

Sideswipe set Fast Track down and tried to soothe his sibling, "Take it easy Sunny, we'll help clean up the mess-"

Sunstreaker shook his head vehemently, "No! All three of you are going to get the frag out of here and leave me in peace for a few joors! Take them to the wash racks, the rec room, I don't care. Just get. Them. Away. From. Me." Sideswipe opened his mouth to protest and Sunstreaker snarled dangerously, "**Now**."

The red twin raised his servos in an appeasing manner before scurrying to help Zipline up and shooing the two younglings out the door with the mutter of, "Come on you two. Let's leave him alone for awhile." _"Slagging grouch."_

Sunstreaker mentally snarled back as he activated a cleaning drone, _"Shut up and leave me be, Sideswipe. I'm not in the mood."_ Sunstreaker felt his brother retract slightly from their twin bond and slide a privacy wall in place. Only once he was sure Sideswipe wasn't in audio range and wouldn't sense him did he throw back his head and roar his frustration at the ceiling. Siting down, Sunstreaker allowed himself to be both enraged and miserable.

It had taken metacycles of bribing and extra chores to find and acquire paint of that quality. He'd planned for almost an orn on what picture he was going to make with that paint, and now, because of Sideswipe and those little glitches Prime had saddled them with, it was gone. Slurped up by the busy little cleaning drone tonelessly humming away at his pedes.

He placed his helm in his servos and focused on trying to rein in his temper. Anger and frustration licked at his spark hungrily, threatening to send him into a rage he only let out during battle. Sunstreaker squeezed his optics shut tightly and vented a few times, trying to calm his mind with a pleasant image. Any image really, as long as it wasn't of his ruined paint supplies.

He sat on his berth for an unknown amount of time, internally struggling with himself and pointedly ignoring his brother's apologetic nudges across their bond. Finally, he felt the dangerous red flicker around his optics fade and his logic center regain control of his battle computer, which had come online because of his stress. Sunstreaker opened his optics and sighed, _Those mini-cons are probably going to make my life miserable aren't they?_

Before he could get angry again, his brother's nudges became desperate, _"Sunny! _**_Help_**_!" _Sunstreaker was on his pedes and out the door in a nano-klik, skating on his wheels towards where he sensed his brother's distress coming from.

_"__I'm on my way Sideswipe. What is it?"_ There were no alarms going off in the base, so it was unlikely that it was a Decepticon attack, but one could never be too sure. Sunstreaker un-subspaced his jagged edge sword as he rounded the corner and shot into ... the wash racks? Sunstreaker slowed to a stop and stared blankly at the scene in front of him, sword dangling loosely in one servo. _What the slag?_

Sideswipe was flailing and struggling on his back, trying to get up and out of the washing pool designed for mechs who needed to soak the grime from their gears instead of take a quick rinse in one of the stalls. Triumphantly thwarting his efforts to climb out were Zipline and Fast Track who, judging by the sizable puddle of cleaning solution and the still spraying shower head not too far away, had apparently discovered that cleaning solution and wheeled pedes did not go well together at all.

Sunstreaker blinked and slowly subspaced his sword, trying to decide whether the entire mess was hilarious or hopelessly sad, _"What the pit is going in here?"_

Sideswipe slowly began climbing out of the cleaning pool as he explained, _"I'm _**_trying_**_ to wash the paint off of Scraplet head over there but_-**hey**!" 'Scraplet head' snickered as he succeeded in pushing Sideswipe back into the pool with a loud splash. Sideswipe emerged from the pool and spat out some of the cleaning solution, _"Keeps pushing me in here,"_ he finished sarcastically. He looked pleadingly at his twin, "Help?"

Sunstreaker mentally weighed his options, he could try tackling the smaller twins and likely end up in Sideswipe's predicament as well, he could leave his twin to his fate, or he could call for backup. He didn't want to end up in the wash pool looking like an idiot and he knew he would get in serious trouble later if he left Sideswipe to his fate. _So that only leaves, ugh, calling for backup._

Deciding he wasn't about to be yelled at by Ratchet for running into youngling problems on the first cycle, Sunstreaker mentally counted the very short list of mechs other than Ratchet who knew anything about youngling care. _Ironhide's never going to let me live this down. _::Sunstreaker to Ironhide::

There was a brief pause, ::What is it Sunstreaker? I'm giving Bumblebee a weapons lesson.::

Sunstreaker mentally huffed, like the old grouch thought he **wanted** to call him? ::You can go back to that in a klik, I just need a quick tip on how to get younglings to submit to a shower.::

There was a much longer pause this time and Sunstreaker strongly suspected that Ironhide was laughing his after-plating off. When Ironhide finally answered, Sunstreaker could hear a tell-tale chuckle in his voice, ::Make a mess already did they? What did they get into?::

Sunstreaker glared at the two younglings, who were too busy thwarting Sideswipe's attempts to escape the pool to notice him standing in the doorway. ::My paint supplies. It's soluble enough to wash off, but my genius twin has managed to get trapped in the cleaning pool and is currently too busy making a fool of himself to do the job himself.::

Another silence that Sunstreaker was sure was filled with laughter stretched on before Ironhide replied, ::You'll never get them under a shower head until you remove their maneuverability advantage. Shove them into the pool with your twin and then catch them by the ankle. Careful you don't hit their helms on the floor. When you hold them upside down, the motion should reset their short-term priority matrix.:: There was a half-klik pause, ::You know what? Just wait there, I need to take Bumblebee to the wash racks anyway. I'll show you how its done. Just make sure they don't get out of the wash racks.::

Sunstreaker smirked as Sideswipe finally managed to climb out of the pool, only to slip on a puddle and fall back in with a wave of cleaning solution, ::Don't worry. The little pit-spawns are too busy with Sides to escape.:: Sunstreaker leaned against the door frame and watched the chaos idly as he waited for Ironhide and Bumblebee to arrive.

Sideswipe temporarily gave up trying to escape the, now half emptied, pool in order to glare at his brother, "Aren't you going to help me?"

The two mischief makers stopped running gleefully around the edge of the pool to look at Sunstreaker nervously. Sunstreaker snorted, "Nope. You're on your own, Sides."

Sideswipe sputtered, "But, but, Sunny!"

Sunstreaker deadpanned, "Don't 'Sunny' me. You were the one who got us into this entire caretaker slag, you can deal with this problem on your own."

Sideswipe whined unhappily and sent wounded feelings over their bond. Sunstreaker just raised an optic ridge, unimpressed. Zipline and Fast Track, who had watched the entire scene, glanced at each other, "I do li hi. Sho' w' tea' hi' a less'?"

Fast Track nodded sagely, "O co."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe exchanged glances, Sideswipe asked timidly over their bond, _"Are they speaking jibber or is that just me?"_

Sunstreaker eyed them uneasily, the two younglings were giving him a very creepy look, _"No, they're speaking jibber all right. It's what that jibber means that concerns me."_ He soon found out. With twin war cries, Zip and Track lunged at his pedes, aiming to knock him over. Reacting on instinct, Sunstreaker leaped over their helms, twisting in the air to land facing his attackers.

Unfortunately, Sunstreaker's instinctive motion set him directly in the middle of the growing puddle of cleaning solution on the ultra smooth floor of the mechs' wash racks. Sunstreaker's optics widened and his yelped in surprise as his wheels slid uncontrollably and he fell over into the cleaning pool with a loud splash. As he surfaced, sputtering indignantly, Sideswipe grinned at him smugly, "Hi Sunny, nice of you to join in."

Sunstreaker glared first at Sideswipe, then at the two laughing younglings just out of reach, "You two are going to pay for that." He hissed menacingly.

Zipline shrugged, "Maybe. If you ever get out of that pool!"

Fast Track nodded in agreement with his green twin, "Yeah, so what're you gonna do now?"

Thumping steps behind the younglings made them jump slightly and look around in surprise. Ironhide towered over them a stern look on his face, "Boo." With yelps of fright, Zipline and Fast Track attempted to make a quick getaway. They were thwarted by Ironhide's surprisingly fast reflexes and large servos, "Gotcha!" With a swift sweep of his arms, he grabbed them by an ankle each and lifted the younglings high into the air upside down.

All thoughts of mischief undoubtedly left their minds as the two struggled wildly to escape his grip, "Hey, let us go! No fair!"

Ironhide chuckled, a deep and rolling sound that seemed to come right from his spark chamber as he calmly ambled over to the running shower and held the still paint covered Zipline directly underneath it, "and that, you two, is how you catch trouble making mechlings. Now get your actuators out of that pool, I'm here to wash myself and Bee, not your younglings."

Sunstreaker and Sideswipe climbed ruefully out of the pool, trying their best to ignore the snickering Bumblebee in the corner. Sunstreaker rolled carefully over to Ironhide and snatched Fast Track from him, holding the protesting mechling firmly by the back of his neck plating, "Whatever."

Sideswipe wheeled less carefully over to Ironhide, nearly crashing into the big mech as a result, and snatched Zipline, "It's payback time, mechling! Death by scrubbing!" Sunstreaker rolled his optics at his brother as he stepped into a nearby stall and started roughly scrubbing Fast Track's body. The squirming youngling in his arms probably didn't **need** a bath. But after all of the trouble he and his sibling had caused, Sunstreaker figured he deserved one by default.

* * *

Ironhide was still chuckling as he looked around at the huge mess caused by twins times two on his way to an unoccupied shower stall. Stripping off his armor pieces and turning on the cleaning solution, he called cheerfully, "You're going to need to remove his armor if you want to get all of that paint off, Sideswipe. Hey Bumblebee, doing okay over there youngling?"

The yellow adolescent waved cheerfully from where he was already scrubbing off grime collected from hard training with his guardian, "I'm fine, Ironhide!" He paused, his door-wings flicking upwards in pleasure under the flow of warming cleaning solvent, "But they might need help." Bumblebee motioned towards Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, who were currently trying to wrestle mini versions of themselves into submission so that they could remove the protective armor of the younglings and clean the protoform beneath.

Ironhide grinned smugly and discreetly took several still photos of the comical struggle for later use, "Ah, they can handle it. Can't you mechs?"

Sunstreaker growled and started swearing in frustration as Fast Track wiggled free from his grasp and shot off like a half armored rocket for the door. Ironhide started to yell at Sunstreaker for swearing around younglings when the door to the wash racks slid open and Fast Track smacked helm first into someone's leg. That someone turned out to be Optimus Prime. Silence fell.

As Optimus took in the chaotic scene that was the wash room, Ironhide could tell that his old friend was trying his best not to laugh out loud. Sunstreaker, taking advantage of Fast Track's forced halt, darted forward and snatched him, "Come here ... you!"

_Knows better than to swear in front of younglings when Prime's in audio range._ Optimus's voice held a hint of amusement as he asked, "May I enquire as to what is going on in here?"

Zipline wailed piteously from where Sideswipe maintained a strong grip on him, "They're trying to make us wash!"

Prime raised his optic ridges slightly, "What is wrong with that? Do you not wish to be clean?"

Fast Track was actually trying to **bite** Sunstreaker's armor as he answered, "No! Wanna go play!"

Ironhide contacted Optimus on a private channel, ::Just missed it Prime. The scraplets were making fools out of the twins. Had them trapped in the washing pool and kept tipping them over when they tried to get back out.::

Optimus's faceplates twitched and his battle mask abruptly slid into place, a sure sign that he was smiling in a most un-Prime like way, "An Autobot must always keep his equipment and himself clean when on base."

Zipline snorted and head-butted Sideswipe, "Wash after we play! Wanna play now!"

Optimus looked calmly at Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, "I can see that you have your servos full, I will return once you are done." Without paying heed to the frantic protests from both sets of twins, Optimus strode out of the wash racks, the door hissing shut behind him. Ironhide calmly resumed scrubbing himself clean of the afternoon's grime, mostly tuning out the wet struggle of epic proportions going on between the newest younglings on base and their caretakers.

Bumblebee's voice came hesitantly over the com, ::Ironhide?::

Ironhide glanced up and over at where his adolescent charge was, ::Yeah, Bee? What's the matter?::

Bumblebee was shifting his gaze from Ironhide to the washing pool Sideswipe had just slipped and fallen into, again, ::Was I like that at bath time? When I was their age I mean.::

Ironhide gave Bumblebee a reassuring smile, ::Nah, young one. You were much better behaved. See, Sunny and Sides are trying to force those two into showering like mechs, the younglings want to play instead. So, you get a brawl between playtime and shower time. The trick those two are going to have to learn is that the only way to make a youngling behave in here, is to make playtime, shower time. That's why Chromia and I always washed you in the pool.::

Bumblebee watched Sunstreaker slip and fall into said pool with his brother while chasing Fast Track and made a tiny 'o' shape with his mouth, ::I guess that makes sense. But, I'm kind of worried that someone will get hurt. Shouldn't you tell Sunny and Sides that trick you just told me?::

Ironhide shook his head and grinned maliciously, ::And let them have an easy time of it? No way! Besides, they wouldn't listen to me anyway.:: Ironhide, having finished his wash, turned off the shower head, toweled himself dry and clicked his armor back into place. Ambling around the ever growing puddle, he grabbed a towel off the rack and helped Bumblebee dry his wings. _Red Alert is going to glitch if he sees this mess, Prowl too most likely._

Thumbing over his shoulder at the exit, he used the internal com so as to be heard over the yelling, splashing, and shrieking, ::Let's get out of here before we get dragged into that pile of scraplets.:: Bumblebee nodded enthusiastically, alternately amused and scared by the display of raw will power versus youthful energy.

Ironhide let Bumblebee escape first, only looking back to take one more short video of two un-armored younglings climbing like cyber-monkeys on a pair of completely soaking Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, before chuckling and evacuating the wet war zone. _They're going to be exhausted by the time they wrestle those two into submission or give up. Whichever comes first. But still,_ ::Ironhide to Chromia, I'm sending you a vid recording of something you're going to want to see.::

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**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone! New chapter! Next chapter, Hardwire gets out of the medbay! This chapter is more of an aftermath to the previous one, think of it as a few Cybertronian hours later or so.**

**Review Response: Dear Sunstreaker's Squishy, hello! Having one of them be her guardian actually would have been a very good idea. However, one of the reasons I chose a Ultra Magnus as her guardian is because they aren't very alike and thus in order to function as a guardian-ward pair, they will have to grow and mature. (Though in Ultra Magnus's case its more like 'lighten up and loosen up'.) Thank you for pointing them out to me though! Now that I know who they are (sort of) I got to use them in a later chapter and I fully intend to explore the possibilities they present. As for Hardwire, you'll find out next time! (happily giggles at impending chaos).**

**Dear DesendraRecess, hi! I'm very glad I made you laugh in the last chapter, it was my intent! Here is another chapter for you!**

**Dear KHGiggle, greetings! It isn't weird at all! Just very flattering for me (bows low). Yes, they definitely are and yes, Ironhide ****definitely is. Can you really blame him though? Barring complications, you only have to wait one more week to see Hardwire! In truth, I'm surprised everyone wants to see what's happening to him so badly, it makes me smile, honestly. Even if there are some Autobots with red optics, I still think Hardwire will get some grief over it, that's the price of being different sometimes. But maybe you're right, from what I've read on the Wiki, Trailbreaker would make a good friend for him.**

**Dear SunnySides, hi again! Ironhide can be surprisingly devious when he wants to, can't he? Makes him even more fun to write! Hmm, there have been rumors to that effect, but I'm not going to tell one way or the other just yet. (Frantically fights off pack of Transformers action figures trying to steal the keyboard and give spoilers. Shoos them away with broom, glares at a smirking Jazz in the background) Hope you don't mind, I just like keeping secrets, it is in my username after all. Really? Wow. Zipline and Fast Track are a handful to write, but living with a version of them wrapped up into one kid? Again, wow. You have my respect. Your update wish has been granted!**

**Author's Note: Silly Sideswipe, he reminds me of the neighborhood cat from a couple years ago in this chapter. The cat had no hope with the ladies, but he still tried everything he could think of from singing to sitting at the base of their high perches and ogling silently. No wonder Sunstreaker can be grouchy at times, having to deal with Sides day in and day out. Also, all hail the might of older siblings with storytelling powers!**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs, Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, and Buffer.**

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**Chapter Nine: Natural Fulcrum**

Starwish looked up from arranging her new room when a knock sounded on the door, "Come in." The door slid open to reveal Ultra Magnus's towering form. Starwish hastily stood to her feet and brushed invisible dust flecks off of her legs before standing straight, "Yes, sir?"

Ultra Magnus had a faint scowl on his face and Starwish wondered if she'd done something wrong, "The twins Sunstreaker and Sideswipe have contacted me on the com. They request your aid in calming down your younger brothers. Are you available to give assistance?"

Starwish smiled to herself as she checked her internal clock and did a quick calculation, "Wow. They lasted longer than I thought they would. Uh, yes sir, I'm available. But I'm going to need someone to show me the way ... sir." She really wasn't sure how many 'sirs' needed to be inserted into a conversation when speaking to Ultra Magnus, or where in the sentence they went, but she wasn't taking any unnecessary chances.

Ultra Magnus raised an optic ridge as Starwish stepped out of her room and he began escorting her out the door and down the hall, "You anticipated that they would run into ... difficulties with your siblings?"

Starwish tried her best but failed to prevent her smile from growing even bigger, "I've lived with them since they were sparklings, sir, and one of the many things I've learned about them is that if they're under the care of a stranger, they will intentionally make that stranger's life the Pit."

Ultra Magnus's voice sounded mildly sharp, "You are to refrain from using foul language while under my care." Starwish looked up at him, shocked, she hadn't realized that 'pit' was a swear word in Cybertronian.

Trying to recover from the mistake, she dipped her head apologetically, "Of course, sir. My apologies." _How was I supposed to know it was a swear word? I need a dictionary._

Ultra Magnus's deep voice cut through her thoughts, "The twins stated that they had already attempted to contact you on the intercom, but you did not answer." While his tone was not accusing, it did require an answer.

Starwish shrugged helplessly and felt heat creep up her face again, "I ... I wouldn't know, sir. I..." she paused and took a breath in and out to calm down, this was horribly embarrassing, "I only have a vague idea of what that even is, honestly." _Let alone how to use it. It isn't like I've got an internal switchboard or anything._

Ultra Magnus came to a sharp halt and Starwish turned and craned her head back to look shyly at his face. His expression was somewhere between, horrified, disbelieving, and dumbfounded, "Are you quite serious?" He finally asked.

Starwish ducked her head and nodded, unable to raise her voice above a humiliated whisper, she had the distinct feeling that everyone on Cybertron knew how to use an 'intercom' except her, "Yes, sir."

There was a long pause during which Starwish was afraid to move from her spot in the middle of the hall even as strange, and very large, mechs passed on either side with curious looks on their faces. Finally, Ultra Magnus said, "Well, I will have to instruct you in its use later then. For now, we will continue to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe's quarters." Starwish mumbled a meek, 'yes sir' and resumed following him, her smaller legs having to trot to keep up with his long strides.

Starwish could tell when they were getting close to Zip and Track's location because of the muffled yells and shrieks. _I wonder if they've succeeded in climbing the walls yet. Oh well, depending on how long they've been at it, I might be able to lull them to sleep with a song. Wouldn't that just be convenient?_ They came to a stop in front of a door that had a small crowd of curious mechs listening to the absolute chaos within.

One stern glance from Ultra Magnus sent the loiterers scattering, leaving the door clear for the huge red and blue mech to knock authoritatively on it. The chaos inside didn't stop and Starwish suspected that it had overridden the sound of Magnus's knock. Ultra Magnus narrowed his eyes at the door and a moment later it swept open to reveal a frazzled looking Sunstreaker. The golden mech spotted Starwish and his eye lit up with hope, "You're here. Hurry and come in!"

He darted back inside and Starwish started to follow him when Ultra Magnus settled a large metal hand on her shoulder, "I have other duties to attend too. If you need assistance, shout for Ratchet or Jazz."

She nodded, "Thank you, sir." Ultra Magnus just gave an absentminded tip of his head before striding off, looking mildly displeased the entire way. Starwish took a settling breath and released it before stepping through the unlocked door and into the mad house. The noises she had heard outside only lent credit to about half of the catastrophe going on within. Zipline and Fast Track were bouncing around without any armor on whatsoever, their newly acquired gears and wires exposed for all to see as they artfully evaded the two flustered mechs assigned to care for them.

Starwish placed her hands on her hips and watched for a few seconds. Sideswipe finally managed to collar Zipline while Sunstreaker wrestled Fast Track out from under the berth. _They're tired all right._ Anyone else wouldn't have been able to tell, but Starwish could spot the faint tell tale twitches in their frames that indicated just how tired they were. Starwish decided to finally end the monkey house before things got any worse. Knowing that shouting would do no good and screaming would only aggravate the situation, Starwish settled for the next best thing, she whistled.

The shrill note pierced the air like a knife, causing a surprised silence to fall over the four brave, or just plain stubborn, battlers. Starwish glowered at her brothers, "What are you two doing?"

Zipline started to say something but Starwish cut him off, "No! I know what you were doing and you are going to stop right now mechlings. Or else."

Fast Track, from his position of hanging upside down in Sunstreaker's arms asked timidly, "Or else what?"

Starwish thought fast, "Or else I'm taking Soundwave and Prowl away for as long as your glitchy attitudes last." The horrified expressions on their faces told her that her threat had hit home.

Fast Track's optics became wide and pleading, "Please don't Star! Please don't!"

Starwish walked over and gently took Fast Track from a baffled Sunstreaker's arms and set him on the ground with a tiny grunt of exertion, "Then put your armor back on and go sit quietly on the berth over there." Zipline and Fast Track became completely meek and almost teary eyed as Sideswipe and Sunstreaker helped them put their armor on and place them on the indicated berth.

Once they were huddled together on the berth, protectively clutching the threatened plushies, Starwish sat down on the edge of the metal slab and gently petted the ridges on their heads, "Shh, shh, it's okay now. I won't take Soundwave and Prowl as long as you behave, I promise. Now, how about a story?"

Both boys perked up happily, "Yeah! Story! Story!"

Starwish smiled, "Okay, any requests?"

Zipline cocked his head to one side, "An epic adventure!"

_Oh, yeah, that's specific._ "Very well then. Once upon a time there was brave young mech who traveled the land looking for adventure..."

* * *

Sunstreaker sat quietly in a corner, listening to Starwish spin a fantastic tale of a young mech trying to hunt down a Predacon as he secretly sketched her on a datapad specially designed for artistic designing. _Her lines, her form, they're so perfect. Whoever built her frame had exquisite taste. _With practiced servos, he administered a touch of shading to the developing picture before glancing up to check on his details.

Starwish was sitting on the end of the berth, her body half turned away from him so that she was facing her brothers, one servo extended and held flat against the berth as a balance point, the other laying in her lap. Her optics shone softly with pleasure at spinning an exciting tale for her siblings. _Slaggers, I'll bet they act like mini heralds of Primus as long as she's around. Oh, well. At least I have her in a perfect pose to draw._

Sideswipe interrupted his drawing by plonking his helm onto Sunstreaker's shoulder and sending him a wave of relief through their bond, _"Pit am I glad that's over with. I don't know how much longer I could have gone before glitching."_

Sunstreaker jiggled his shoulder slightly, sending a wave of irritated agreement back to his brother, _"It isn't over scrap helm, once she's done telling that story, she'll leave and we'll have to deal with the two spawns of Unicron over there all over again. Now get off my shoulder, you're throwing off my aim."_

Sideswipe reluctantly straightened up, _"Way to dump coolant on my pleasure Sunny. Hey, are those two falling into recharge?"_

Sunstreaker glanced up from his datapad and tilted his head to one side so that he could get a better look at Zipline and Fast Track. It was true, the mini-twins were curling tighter together, Zipline's helm resting on Fast Tracks while the latter snuggled against his sibling's chest plate. _Well coat my brother with axle grease and call him a medic. They really are falling into recharge._

Knowing that if her audience fell into recharge, Sunstreaker would lose his art subject, he returned to his project with urgent fervor. Just as he finished applying red to the optic in his picture, Starwish's voice trailed off. Her brothers had finally fallen asleep. She smiled indulgently at the sleeping twins and gently planted a kiss on each of their helms before starting to slide off the berth. Sunstreaker made a tiny noise of despair and she looked up at him in surprise.

Her optics glanced from Sunstreaker to his datapad and back before blushing softly. Sunstreaker kept his face studiously blank, trying not to show how displeased he was at the thought of her leaving before he was finished. Starwish whispered softly, "Were you ... sketching me?" She didn't sound insulted, just curious.

Sideswipe risked a smack to the helm as he glibly whispered back, "You bet he was! He was just starting to draw in your legs-" There was a faint smack noise and a hiss of pained surprise as Sunstreaker cuffed his twin on the helm.

Sunstreaker muttered darkly, "It's nothing. Just a hobby."

Starwish seemed to be thinking something over, finally she smiled at Sunstreaker and, much to his surprise slid back into her previous position, "I'm honored. If you like, I'll do my best to hold still while you finish." Sunstreaker blinked at her unexpected act of kindness before nodding in satisfaction and returning to his work.

He bent his head slightly over the datapad to hide the pleased smile that briefly flashed over his faceplates, none of the femmes or mechs on base really had the patience to willingly pose for his art. Usually, he had to do it in secret when they were busy recharging or engaged in an activity that held them mostly still. Or force them to hold still by calling on a favor, which everyone knew was the only reason Sunstreaker willingly helped someone other than his twin. While the action was merely a thoughtful act, Starwish's voluntary choice to let him sketch her for later painting raised his respect for her a notch.

A flood of giddy pleasure surged from Sideswipe's end of the bond, nearly causing Sunstreaker to make a mistake in his sketch. He send an irritated burst to Sideswipe to let him know to hold still. Sideswipe sent back a wordless wave of emotion excitedly and Sunstreaker had to resist the urge to yelp in surprise. Pausing in his careful drawing, Sunstreaker hissed over their bond, _"You feel a _**_what_**_ with her?"_

Sideswipe sent back, _"A spark call! I'm sure of it! She's the femme for me Sunny, she is going to be my sparkmate someday! I just know it!"_

Sunstreaker looked up from his datapad and glared at Sideswipe, _"Doubt it. For one thing, Magnus is her guardian and he wouldn't let you within five hundred quadrants of her if he knew you wanted to court her. Two, she is still underage. Three, you can't possibly feel a spark call with her because we are two parts of the same spark and I don't feel anything."_

Sideswipe gave him a condescending glance before returning his gaze to the patiently motionless Starwish, _"You're just to busy looking at her from an artist's point of view. Look at her from a _**_mech's_**_ and I'm sure you'll feel it."_

Sunstreaker rolled his optics and resumed sketching, _"Whatever lover-mechling. Just don't embarrass or distract me."_ The next ten breems passed in blessed silence from both the outside world and Sunstreaker's twin bond. However, a faint noise he'd never heard before caused him to look up sharply.

It was Starwish, she was still in the pose he wanted but she was making some kind of groaning noise that rose and fell in a certain sequence. Fearing something was wrong with his 'muse', Sunstreaker asked in a whisper, "Hey, are you all right?"

She jumped slightly and glanced his way as she whispered, "Hmm? Yes, I'm fine. Why, did I do something wrong?"

Sideswipe got up and rolled over to the berth, "You were groaning a lot. You aren't getting a virus are you? I could carry you to Ratchet..."

His not so subtle statement caused the white femme to blush, "No, no, I'm fine. I was just _humming_."

Sunstreaker eyed her curiously at the use of a clearly non-Cybertronian word, "What does that mean?"

Starwish appeared to be caught off guard by his question, "_Humming_? It's well ... it is when a mech or femme uses their voice to mimic the sequence and pattern of a song they like when they are concentrating on doing something else. There are no words, just mimicking the sound of the notes. I'm sorry if it startled you, I was just doing it to help stay still."

Sunstreaker had, frankly, never heard of _humming_. But, if it would help her stay perfectly still ... "It's fine, I just wanted to know what it was. You can keep doing it if it helps." She nodded her thanks and timidly resumed humming. At first, the soft noise unnerved Sunstreaker, he had never heard another Cybertronian do it, so he found it mildly distracting. But as time went on, he grew acclimated to the noise and it became an almost pleasant background sound. Starwish certainly had a nice vocalizer, perfect for mimicking the soft collection of notes.

He counted himself lucky that Zipline and Fast Track remained blissfully unaware of the entire operation, still being trapped in a deep recharge after their hyper activities. Finally, he shaded in the last piece of his sketch and inspected it critically against the live model. _Perfect._ "All right. I'm finished."

Starwish stopped humming and looked up, she seemed surprised that they were finally finished, "May ... may I see?" Sunstreaker calmly stood up as Starwish slid off of the berth and trotted over to him to look at his drawing. Sunstreaker held the datapad down to her eye level and felt a flash of satisfaction when her optics widened in awe, "Wow, Sunstreaker ... just ... wow. It's amazing..."

Sunstreaker smirked, "Naturally, I'm an expert. You're not too bad of a model, either." Starwish blushed, her faceplates shading to a light blue at his slightly backhanded praise.

Sideswipe sidled over to her and slid an arm around her waist with a winning smile, "Don't listen to him. His doodle would be nothing without you, the perfect model." Sunstreaker audibly growled at his brother's blatant insulting of him and flirting with Starwish.

Starwish jerked away from Sideswipe like he was a scraplet horde trying to eat her, her faceplates turning an even deeper shade of blue as she stammered out, "Um, I should be ... be going. When Zip and Track wake up, they're going to want something to eat and a game to play. Uh ... a racing game should ... should keep them occupied for a while ... I ... I-have-to-go-bye!" She darted out of the door before Sideswipe could touch her again, leaving Sunstreaker to glare silently at his brother and plan **major** retribution.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello everybody! Here is the long awaited Hardwire-centric chapter! Just a warning, it ends on a slightly tense/sad note but things will work out just fine, I promise.**

**Review Response: Dear SunnySides, hello! I am so, so sorry about not answering your last question in your previous review! I don't know how I that happened, I could have sworn I wrote the answer ... but it didn't show up in the document. Anyways, the answer to your last question on your Sep 24 review is, no, the fact that they are human will not be revealed within the next ten chapters. Sorry. I plan on making everybody very settled and used to working as a team with each other before I drop that bombshell. In regards to your second review from Oct 1, let me stop your assumptions right there. This story is not, I repeat not a reincarnation story in any way. Primus is not responsible for their dimensional jump or their transformation into Cybertronians, nor did any of the main characters die prior to coming to Cybertron. Although I can understand your ****assumption, I just feel the need to clear that up. I also agree wholeheartedly with you on the matter of Sideswipe's intelligence, or the distinct lack thereof. (snickers) Anyway, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!**

**Dear TFAN Override, hello and pardon me? I'm not sure where that misunderstanding came from about chapter nine... I apologize if anything I wrote in the review responses or author's notes caused the misunderstanding but here is the actually Hardwire-centric chapter. Hope this makes up for the previous disappointment.**

**Dear denis.d2505, hi for the first time! I am flattered that you like my story! As for your concern about the twins and their romantic pairings ... well let's just say you may be in for a pleasant surprise. Maybe. I make no promises. I will note however, that your review has got me thinking about First Aid in a new way (runs off to check massive archive of possible femme OCs for a perfect romantic match, comes back panting) I'll see what I can do. I agree with you about Starwish's potential to be an apprentice of Ratchet. That is, in fact, what I originally designed her prosthetics for as she was going to be Ratchet's ward instead of Ultra Magnus's. Things came up however, so that possible subplot will have to be addressed in a much later chapter. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Dear KHGiggle, hello again! I am glad you liked the chapter and yes, Sideswipe would definitely use the twinlings (I like that word by the way) as an excuse to hang around Starwish, who most certainly would not enjoy said hanging around. The situation is simply too outlandish for her. He is the Cybertronian version of a teenager/young adult sports jock remember and I doubt guys have ever really taken note of her before. The intercom is the inner communication between bots, with each bot having a private channel that their close companions or fellow soldiers are able to contact them through. It is very commonly known and used to the point where it could be considered mundane. So not knowing how to use it would be like not knowing how to flip a light switch here in 2014. Jazz? Humming? Yes, yes he is. Dancing too.**

**Dear jd009, we meet again! Yay! I completely understand, life happens, school cannot be ignored, it's fine. I'm just pleased you have enjoyed the story so far. I am glad I made you laugh, though are you sure you mean chapter seven and not chapter eight? Oh well, as long as you are pleased. As for Ironhide, don't let that gruff exterior fool you, he can be very crafty when he wants to be, especially when karma and the twins are involved. I never understood why Sunstreaker is portrayed as such a jerk by some of the stories here on FanFiction, anti-social I get, but really? That level of nasty just would not be able to survive in the Autobot ranks. I am glad you agree with me on that. Love in the air, huh? Do you mean between Starwish and Sunstreaker? If so, I am sorely tempted ... but I already have my pairing picked out and I hate giving major spoilers so I cannot tell you if you are correct. Here is another chapter as promised. You can now discover what happens to Hardwire directly after being released from the medbay!**

**Author's note: Let's see, Bulkhead from TF Prime is formally introduced, Arcee, Wheeljack, and Jack Darby are referenced and a new OC of mine makes a brief appearance. The new OC's name is Flash Fire, I apologize ahead of time if that name already belongs to a canon character. Also, the movie Hook was fairly popular among my friends and I and is still quoted heavily years after we last watched it. It had so many good one-liners. One of these days I will get around to properly describing Buffer, but for now, (shrugs) I have more important stuff to do I suppose. Also, I made up Algol City and Algol Central, just in case you start wondering where I got that. The city they are in was originally going to be Iacon, but that didn't match up with my plans so I had to make a new city from scratch. I'll still be on the lookout for ways to include Smokescreen and Alpha Trion in later chapters though, Alpha Trion really should have gotten more screen time in my personal opinion. Hope you enjoy!**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story (including the movie Hook). The only things I own are my OCs, Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, Buffer, and Flash Fire.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Roommates**

Hardwire took another careful step forward, probing the ground slightly with his foot, testing to see if his right leg would continue to support his weight. A faint ache was the only repercussion of his tentative step. He looked up hopefully at Ratchet, who was watching his walk around the room with a practiced optic, "Well?"

Ratchet hummed thoughtfully, "Your leg strut appears to be fully recuperated, all that it needs now is to be reconditioned to bearing your full weight."

Hardwire gave him a tiny smile, "So...?"

Ratchet rolled his optics and offered Hardwire a datapad, "You can be safely released from the med-bay. Sign here." Hardwire signed on the line indicated by Ratchet, trying his best not to look **too** eager to leave the medic's care. After all, Ratchet and First Aid had treated him with compassion that he hadn't expected because of his red optics and the Decepticon symbol that Ratchet had kindly buffed out of existence his fifth day in the bay.

Ratchet took the datapad back from Hardwire with a faint smile at the younger mech's enthusiasm, "You will need to return here at the end of every metacycle for a checkup to make sure there are no new cracks forming in the strut. And take it easy on that leg! I don't want it breaking again because you got overcharged and decided to do something stupid."

Hardwire nodded, "All right..." He hesitated, wondering what to do with himself now. Up until that point, he'd been focusing on healing his leg and **not** dying from the boredom of not being allowed to move. Luckily, Cybertronian's recovered from broken or shot limbs far faster than humans did and now, after the Cybertronian equivalent of four weeks, he was finally free to go were he wanted within reason and he had no idea where to go.

Ratchet gave him a sympathetic look, "I have contacted the mech who is to be your new roommate. He should be here any breem and I'm sure he will be more than happy to show you around the base."

Hardwire dipped his head, "Thank you Ratchet. For everything." Ratchet gave a dismissing huff and a shrug as if it didn't matter, but Hardwire suspected that the gruff medic was touched by his thanks.

The door to the med-bay slid open at that moment, drawing the human-turned-Cybertronian's attention to the large, green mech ambling through the entrance to the bay. _No way..._ The mech spotted Hardwire and looked startled. He surprise was quickly replaced by a cautious greeting, "Uh, hi there, name's Bulkhead."

Hardwire stepped forward, aware of his slight limp, and held out a hand in greeting, "Hardwire. So ... am I going to be your new roommate?"

Ratchet looked up briefly from the tool he was fiddling with, "Yes, you are and yes, he is. Now why don't you two get to know each other over a cube of energon in the pub?"

Hardwire grinned, "If I didn't know any better Ratchet, I'd say you were trying to get rid of me."

Ratchet retorted, "Well, you don't know better, now out. I have equipment to check."

First Aid waved a silent goodbye as Hardwire and Bulkhead left the med-bay and set off down the hall. Bulkhead made a slight rumbling noise that Hardwire had learned was a sign of nervousness among Transformers, "So, uh, want to take the doctor's suggestion? I'll have Buffer make somethin' up for you."

Hardwire decided that if a famous character like Bulkhead was willing to try and make friends with him, he would try his utmost to return the favor, "Sounds great, lead the way." They set off down the hall, Hardwire receiving many, **many** looks from the mechs passing them on various business. Quite a few of the looks were hard and suspicious, but Hardwire made a point to just nod politely no matter what the expression on the passing mech.

A random thought popped into Hardwire's head, "Not that I'm complaining but ... why hasn't anyone shot at me yet?"

Bulkhead glanced from Hardwire to the busy activity around them, "Oh, Optimus Prime made an announcement a few cycles ago, telling everyone about you and the other refugees. We're all under the strictest orders not to harm you unless you attack us first." _Nice, I'm on probation then. Better than being locked up in a prison or shot because of a misunderstanding though._

Hardwire gave an uneasy smile, "Well, that was thoughtful of him."

Bulkhead nodded enthusiastically, "Prime is the real deal. A real leader, a real mech."

Briefly thinking on all of the things Hardwire had seen Optimus Prime do on the various TV shows and movies, he thought, _You have no idea._ "How did you end up under his command?"

Bulkhead said, "I transferred. Used to be a Wrecker, but once I saw Prime in action, I knew I wanted to be on his team." The green wrecker seemed to be contemplating something for a moment before asking, "I was builder before the war. What was your function?"

Hardwire thought quickly. The truth was better than lying, naturally, but he had to be careful he didn't say something that wouldn't add up, "I wasn't online before the war. I mostly jumped from job to job when I got old enough … I recently served as a night guard at a factory though. Boring as watching paint dry, let me tell you."

Bulkhead laughed, a deep booming sound, "Nothing worth stealing?"

Hardwire eyed Bulkhead dryly, "Not unless someone decided to conquer the world with cans of paint. I was serious about my job being more boring than paint drying, found out from experience."

Bulkhead laughed again and slapped Hardwire on the shoulder heartily, "Well, you're in one of the most exciting parts of Cybertron now, Wire." _Wire?_

"Did you just give me a nickname?" Hardwire asked curiously.

Bulkhead looked suddenly taken aback, "Uh, yeah, why? Don't you like it?"

Hardwire was quick to assure his new roommate, "No, no, the nickname is great. I was just surprised is all." Bulkhead smiled, pleased that he was getting along with his red opticed roommate already.

Hardwire followed Bulkhead through a door and paused nervously when Bulkhead declared for the entire room to hear, "This the pub. Hey Buffer! A cube for Hardwire here!" _Way to draw everyone's attention to me, Bulkhead._ Hardwire started to hunch his shoulders shyly when a delighted squeal rang out across the room and he was tackled by a flying blur of white color.

Hardwire staggered back a step with a 'Woof!' noise as the white blur turned into a hugging Starwish, "Hardwire! You got released! Ratchet didn't tell me you were going to be released today!"

Hardwire laughed and couldn't resist hugging her back, ignoring the surprised looks he and his sister were getting from everyone else in the room, "Hello to you too, Star! Ah, I missed you when you weren't visiting!" He set her down and grinned at her beaming face, "Don't blame Ratchet for the surprise, he wasn't planning on releasing me until next cycle, but I managed to coax him into freeing me early."

Starwish was smiling angelically, "Come have lunch with me and Jazz! Did you know there are over thirty-two types of Cybertronian music? Jazz has data sticks from every single genre! One of them sounds like-" She suddenly noticed Bulkhead standing there looking baffled and slightly shy and she froze. With a tiny squeak, she hid behind Hardwire, her face turning blue with embarrassment at chattering so glibly in front of a famous Autobot she hadn't been introduced to yet. "Um, hi." She whispered softly at Bulkhead.

Hardwire carefully nudged Starwish into view and said formally, "Starwish, this is my new roommate Bulkhead. Bulkhead, meet my little sister Starwish, best dancer and singer in the known galaxy."

Hearing him add praise to his introduction, Starwish huddled behind him again with a hiss of, "Hardwire, don't!"

Hardwire just rolled his eyes, "Don't do what? Brag about you? Have a little bit more confidence, Star."

Bulkhead carefully interrupted before an argument could form between the two, "Hi, it's, uh, nice to meet you, Starwish."

Starwish eyed him timidly, a healthy dose of respect showing in her eyes, "Hello."

Hardwire resisted the urge to sigh, he knew the best way for her to warm up to someone would be to just act normal around Bulkhead and wait for her to join the conversation, "So, Bulkhead, what energon would you suggest?"

Bulkhead glanced at Hardwire for a second before remembering why they had come and leading him over to the bar, taking a random seat and motioning for Hardwire to sit next to him, "I'd go with a cube of high-grade … but seeing as you just got out of the med-bay, that probably isn't the best idea."

Hardwire gave Bulkhead a long humorless look, "Ya think? Ratchet would have my helm on a silver tray if I got drunk my first cycle out of his sight. He strictly said no high-grade for a few metacycles anyway. Something about my systems still needing to fully adjust to mid-grade." He missed the surprised look Bulkhead threw his way as the mech behind the counter, Buffer he assumed, ambled over with two cubes of energon for them.

Buffer set a cube down in front of Hardwire and smiled in a friendly manner, "Hey, you're one of the refugees Jazz brought in aren't you?" Hardwire nodded as he sipped on the proffered cube. Buffer seemed to study him for a moment, his smile still in place, "Well, let me be one of the first to welcome you to Algol Central."

Hardwire's head jerk up in surprise, "Where?"

Bulkhead repeated what Buffer had just said, "Algol Central, that's what we call the base. Cause it's the center of all Autobot operations in the western half of the planet." Hardwire mulled over this for a minute. It made sense, though he hadn't been expecting to be in some 'major' base.

A question popped into his head, "So, where were Starwish and I found?"

A new voice answered his question, "Out by tha ruins of a neutral settlement called Nebuli Vix." Hardwire turned in his seat and found himself looking down into the visor of Jazz. The small silver mech hopped onto a bar stool next to Hardwire and made a small beckoning motion to Buffer with one claw like finger, "So Ratch let yah out early, eh? Must a been a real pain in his after-plating for thah ta happen."

Hardwire half-smiled ruefully as he sipped on his energon, mentally praising the heavenly taste of his lunch, "I tried not to be. But I never was one for lying around quietly when there was other things I could be doing."

Buffer slid a cube across the counter to Jazz, who caught it easily as he asked, "Yea? Like what?"

Hardwire shrugged, "No idea. But almost anything is better than lying on a berth for four metacycles straight with nothing to do but read."

Bulkhead chortled, "I hear yah there. Can't stand it when I have nothing do. Say, how about a game of Lob after lunch? Exercise that leg of yours?" Hardwire didn't really know what kind of game 'Lob' was, but figured if it became too rough on his leg, he could always back out.

He cocked his head to one side contemplatively, "Sure, why not? You'll have to teach me the rules though."

Bulkhead half-laughed incredulously, "You don't know the rules to Lob? Everyone knows that game!"

Hardwire searched his memory, he dimly remembered an episode in which Bulkhead and Wheeljack, or had that been his impostor? Had taken turns throwing a metal ball at each other as hard as they could while Arcee told Jack something about it being a warrior-class game. "A little sister and two twin mechling brothers are not exactly conducive to those kinds of games, Bulkhead."

Starwish piped up curiously, "Isn't that the one where you throw a ball at someone's helm as if you intend to knock it off?" Jazz started to laugh in the middle of drinking his energon and choked a little bit as some energon got in his intakes.

Buffer grinned from where he was polishing an energon glass, "I guess it would look that way from a femme's perspective wouldn't it? Nice call Starwish."

She dipped her head, "Thank you, Buffer. Jazz, are you all right?" Jazz finished coughing and waved a hand to signal that he was fine. Starwish's mouth twitched and Hardwire knew she was fighting a smile, "I need to remember not to say things like that when others are drinking."

Hardwire raised his cube in a salute and intentionally quoted one of her favorite movies from earth, "I believe you've just had an apostrophe."

Starwish grinned, recognizing the quote and retorted with the traditional reply, "I think you mean an epiphany." They both chuckled, remembering the fun times they had had with that movie, completely oblivious to the strange looks they were getting from Jazz and Bulkhead.

The four talked for a while, slowly growing more friendly and comfortable in each other's presence. Just as Bulkhead was regaling them with a story about his Wrecker adventures, Starwish's eyes flicked up and left suddenly and she squeaked, "Oh! Sorry to cut and run but I need to go or I'll be late! Bye Hardwire, bye Jazz, it was nice meeting you Bulkhead. Bye!" She darted out the door before anyone could say a word.

Hardwire blinked a few times, "Any idea what that was all about?"

Jazz nodded, "She's got lessons with Ironhide on self defense and weapons. He was already teachin' anotha' younglin' on base so he figured he'd make it a class. He'll probably let yah join in if yah need it."

Hardwire wrestled within himself briefly, his logical side immediately wanted to go attend the training session, but he had just agreed to go play 'Lob' after lunch with Bulkhead. The last thing he wanted was to brush off the ex-Wrecker's attempt to be friendly, but on the other hand he was a human turned into a robot who's race was currently embroiled in a civil war. It was also worth noting that he while he had excelled in gym training at school, if he got into a fight he knew that he would have about as much chance of surviving as a soap bubble in a hurricane of needles.

He glared at his energon cube, trying to figure out how to tactfully bale out of playing with Bulkhead in a way that wouldn't make him look unreliable or selfish. To his surprise, Bulkhead suddenly patted him on the shoulder, "Ah, stop glaring at the cube and finish it already. I'll take you down to the training rooms."

Hardwire looked at Bulkhead searchingly, "Are you sure? I mean, I did agree to play Lob with you…"

Bulkhead gave him a very serious look, "If you think you need more training, then more training it is. What kind of roommate would I be if I would rather have a game with you than ensure your survival? Now go on and finish."

Hardwire flashed him a grateful grin before tilting the energon cube back and gulping it's contents down. Sliding off of the stool, he followed Bulkhead out of the pub. Jazz followed them lazily out into the hall before bidding them goodbye, "Got some new music sticks Ah just been waitin' ta listen to. Good luck with yah trainin' 'Wire."

"Thank's Jazz, have fun with you music." _I somehow doubt I will have the same chances of enjoyment._ The walk to the training rooms wasn't incredibly long and Bulkhead filled it with happy chatter, Hardwire found himself smiling quietly at they headed down various corridors to a different section of the base. As they entered a new hall, Hardwire ground to a stop in awe. A long window stretched along one side of the corridor wall, revealing the outside world to his astounded eyes.

Many TV shows, comic books, video games, and movies had tried at one point of other to portray what the Cybertron landscape would look like. None of them compared to the real thing. Silver skyscrapers of many shapes and sizes towered to the sky, glowing blue and chrome lines weaving back and forth between the many buildings, interconnecting them to each other like a million metallic spider web strands. The buildings seemed to glow under the light of the afternoon sun, their polished surfaces gleaming in a manner that he was sure would have blinded human eyes.

As he continued to stare, dumbfounded, Hardwire realized that the 'lines' were really roads and highways. "It's … wow."

Bulkhead cocked his head slightly, looking from Hardwire to the landscape outside in confusion, "Uh, I guess," he paused, "Algol **is** pretty impressive. Iacon's even bigger though. Is this your first time here?" Hardwire nodded mutely, unable to formulate any coherent words about the alien landscape he saw. _New York has nothing on this place… and Iacon's even bigger? _Bulkhead patted a heavy hand on his shoulder, successfully breaking him out of his revere, "Come on, I'll show you around Algol later if you like, but for now we need to get to the training rooms."

Hardwire shook his head and followed Bulkhead, trying not to give in to the urge to stop and stare out the window again, "Right. Sorry about that." _Now I really feel like I'm on a Sci-fi movie set._

Bulkhead glanced over his shoulder, "You know, if you wanted to, I could teach you some combat moves. Unless you'd prefer Specialist Ironhide of course. Which is totally okay! He is said to be one of the best fighters in all of the Autobot army after all. But, uh…"

Hardwire considered Bulkhead's offer, it sounded appealing, Bulkhead was a former Wrecker, so naturally he would have all kinds of experience and advice to pass on to a utter rookie like himself. Ironhide would have the same amount of experience true, but Ironhide was also known for having a 'thing' about blowing up bots with red optics. He didn't know if his eyes would garner some kind of subconscious prejudice from the mech.

Also, Ironhide was Chromia's sparkmate and Hardwire didn't really fancy running into the woman who'd blasted his leg just yet. Hardwire looked up from his musings and grinned, "Sound's great Bulkhead, I'd love it if you taught me. Uh, you do know that you'd have to start from scratch, right?"

Bulkhead laughed, "Aw come on! You can't be that bad!"

* * *

Several breems later, as Bulkhead stared at his new roommate, the bulky Wrecker couldn't help but think back on those words. "Uh…" Hardwire slowly rolled back onto his pedes from where Bulkhead had easily, and accidentally, punched him to the floor.

The younger mech groaned slightly and rubbed his jaw ruefully, his red optics twinkling in a self deprecating way as he said weakly, "Told you. My guardians didn't believe in violence." _Oh, mech._

Feeling more than a little bit flummoxed, Bulkhead asked non comprehendingly, "You really **don't** have any training. Do you?"

Hardwire raised an optic ridge dryly, his ruby optics boring hard into his blue, "What clued you in? My own confession to it, or the fact that you floored me without even trying afterwards?" Bulkhead chuckled sheepishly, Hardwire had a point. The mech had confessed to not knowing the first thing about close quarters combat, but Bulkhead hadn't believed him.

Perhaps it was the tiny, constantly suspicious part of his processor that he'd been trying to ignore all cycle, but some part of him just hadn't been able to believe that the tall, clearly warrior-caste mech hadn't received any training whatsoever. A nasty little voice in his helm had insisted that Hardwire was faking his lack of knowledge, so, Bulkhead had tried to catch his new roommate off guard with a sudden mock punch. He hadn't expected the punch to actually land.

Rubbing the back of his helm in embarrassment, Bulkhead grunted, "Uh, sorry about that. Just trying to test your reflexes."

Hardwire laughed hollowly, "My reflexes are fine, it's how to use them where I have trouble. So, do you still want to teach me? I've been told that I'm a quick learner."

Bulkhead tried not to show just how distressed he was about Hardwire's lack of survival skills. When, not if, the cycle came that the mech would be forced into combat with the Decepticons, the savage backstabbers would no doubt rip him limb from limb. As Hardwire's new friend, roommate, and fellow Autobot, it was his duty to make sure that the green mech in front of him would be able to survive a Decepticon onslaught.

Seeing Hardwire's doubtful look Bulkhead hastily reassured him, "Of course I'll train you! We just need to start from the basics."

Hardwire offered him a lopsided grin as he carefully applied pressure to his lip component to stop it from leaking energon, "Fun."

Bulkhead trained Hardwire steadily for two joors, starting from correct stance, basic blocks and punches, and slowly working up. Hardwire did indeed turn out to be a fast learner, Bulkhead almost felt silly that he, the slowest of the Autobots was the one teaching Hardwire. However, he pushed that thought aside, he was a **Wrecker**, if anyone could teach Hardwire the skills needed to survive behind enemy lines, it was him. As the second joor of training drew to a close, Bulkhead called a halt. He could tell that Hardwire's leg was beginning to bother him, "All right, let's take a break for the day. Doc Ratchet will have both our helms if we overstrain that leg of yours."

Hardwire huffed through his intakes in relief as he slid to the floor, back braced against the wall, "And to think … 'bots do this … for a hobby. Oof."

Bulkhead chuckled at his friend's exaggerated show of exhaustion as he heavily sat down next to him, "Yeah well, once we build up some stamina in your cables, you just might become one of those 'bots. You've got the frame for it."

Hardwire eyed him curiously, "Really?"

Bulkhead nodded confidently, "Really. You've got a frame that would make you a perfect heavy weapons specialist. Speaking of, you're going to need a weapon in case the 'cons ever show. We can drop by the armory and pick one out for you on the way to our quarters if you like."

Despite his reputation as being a slow witted bot, Bulkhead couldn't help but notice the suddenly guilty look that flashed over Hardwire's faceplates. His battle computer began booting up under the influence of his sudden suspicion. The Decepticons had once tried to plant one of their own in the ranks of the Wreckers and his instincts were suddenly screaming that such a setup might be happening again.

Cocking his head to one side and trying not to act suspicious, Bulkhead asked bluntly, "Why the long face?"

Hardwire started staring at his servo as if it was the most interesting thing on Cybertron. The silence dragged on for several kliks and Bulkhead found himself beginning to tense up, "Hardwire…"

There was the sudden sound of transformation and Hardwire's right servo morphed into an impressive looking sniper rifle. Bulkhead was on his pedes in a nano-klik, his own blasters out and fully charged. Hardwire looked up at him in surprise, "Whoa! Take it easy Bulkhead! I was just … showing you this." He twitched the sniper rifle slightly to indicate his meaning.

Bulkhead didn't lower his blasters, he recognized the make and model of the sniper rifle, "That's a Kaonian Sniper Cannon MX-115, only twenty-five were ever made and those models are practically **exclusive **to the Decepticons. How did you get one?" His vocalizer growled out the last sentence aggressively as he inwardly decided that if Hardwire couldn't come up with a good excuse, he was calling for backup.

Bulkhead could have sworn that Hardwire suddenly looked sad, "I don't know. At least, I don't remember. The cycle Jazz found me and the others, I discovered this in my subspace. I didn't think to tell anyone, it just never came up. When you said I'd need a weapon, I thought I should show you this."

Hardwire stared at the rifle for several kliks before returning it to his subspace with a chime, "Figures it would be a 'con weapon." The words were muttered in a lonely and bitter tone that almost made Bulkhead lower his guard. Almost.

Keeping his optics and blaster trained on Hardwire, Bulkhead accessed his intercom, ::Bulkhead to Base Security. I have a situation in training room 4C.::

The response was immediate, ::Base Security, this is Flash Fire. What is the situation?::

Hardwire didn't move, he just watched Bulkhead with veiled red optics. ::I have uncovered a possible Decepticon plant. Requesting backup and explanations right slaggin' now.::

Flash Fire's voice sounded excited, ::Acknowledged, Bulkhead, backup is on the way. Is the suspect violent?::

Bulkhead studied Hardwire, feeling a slight twinge of confusion in his spark as he realized that the latter hadn't moved a micro-meter, ::Uh, negative. I've got him covered and he hasn't made so much as a twitch.::

A new voice entered the conversation, ::This is Commander Prowl, is the suspect designated Hardwire?::

Bulkhead stiffened slightly at the knowledge that he was now talking to the head of all Autobot Security, ::Yes sir, he is. He pulled a Kaonian Sniper Cannon MX-115 on me but put it away once I pulled my blaster out, sir. Uh, orders?::

There was a short pause, ::Escort him to my office, I will personally see to the problem.::

::Yes, sir, on my way.:: Inwardly wondering at why Commander Prowl would say to take Hardwire to the office and not the brig, Bulkhead motioned for Hardwire to stand, "Come on, we're headed to Commander Prowl's office." Hardwire stood stiffly, his faceplates betraying no emotion as Bulkhead escorted him to where Commander Prowl was waiting.

The entire journey was painfully silent, Hardwire made no sudden moves and said nothing. Bulkhead found it unnerving. _Probably the way he really acts. When he isn't playing refugee._ Despite what Bulkhead told himself, a quiet nagging voice in his processor was telling him that the Hardwire he had first seen was the real one. He shoved that thought aside, he had seen too many of his friends offline at Decepticon servos to simply trust Hardwire, not after seeing that rifle. But then again … why would a 'con plant show a weapon that would make him stand out like a crushed optic?

But how could someone **not know** how an item like **that** got into their subspace? Wasn't that impossible? The questions bounced endlessly through Bulkhead's processor even as they arrived at Commander Prowl's office and were let in by a glaring guard. Prowl was standing in front of his desk, his faceplates devoid of any emotion, his door-wings fixed in a neutral position.

Prowl stared at the two of them for several kliks before speaking, "Weapons down, Bulkhead."

Bulkhead jerked in surprise, "What? Sir, are you sure?"

Prowl flicked his door-wings ever so faintly and asked very quietly, "Are you questioning my orders, soldier?"

Bulkhead knew a warning tone when he heard it, he subspaced his weapons, "No, sir."

Prowl turned to Hardwire, "Show me the weapon stated in Bulkhead's intercom." The red opticed mech paused and stared at his right servo, just as he had the first time he showed the cannon to Bulkhead. With a whir of gears the Kaonian Sniper Cannon reappeared and was held out slightly for inspection. Bulkhead subconsciously tensed, but Prowl appeared to be unperturbed. Finally, he asked, "Is this the only weapon you have?"

There was a long pause, Hardwire was staring stubbornly at the wall just over Prowl's shoulder, "No."

Prowl raised an optic ridge ever so slightly, "What other weapons do you have then? A complete list."

Hardwire shrugged slightly, barely contained emotion adding a hard edge to his voice, "I don't know for sure. I have trouble accessing subspace."

Prowl folded his hands behind his back calmly, "Are there any other pieces of weaponry that you know of?" Bulkhead couldn't believe his audios, the commander was actually accepting the 'I have trouble accessing subspace' line? He ground his jaw workings to keep from protesting. He was beginning to get the distinct impression that there was more to the situation than what he knew.

Hardwire's optics darted to the floor, he didn't reply. Commander Prowl repeated the question, "Are there any other pieces of weaponry that you know of in your subspace?"

Finally, the taller mech ground out, "Sir, with all do respect, I am already under suspicion for being a Decepticon. I have answered your questions to the best of my ability. If you are going to shoot me or brig me or **whatever**, just fragging do it already."

Prowl stared Hardwire down silently, his expression painfully unreadable. Finally he turned to Bulkhead, "You are dismissed. Wait outside until I send for you."

Bulkhead sputtered, "Sir?" _What the slag is going on here?_

Commander Prowl's voice remained quiet, but it took an icy edge, "I said, dismissed. Remain outside this office until I summon you again." Bulkhead hesitated for a klik, he didn't want to leave the office until the matter was resolved, but he knew that he had to obey orders. Reluctantly, he saluted and left the office to stand nervously in front of the door.

He was half tempted to try and listen through the door, but quickly dismissed that idea, the Commander had sent him out of the room for a reason. Also, the infamously logical Security officer was known for being able to find out about infractions of rules that anyone else would miss. Better to just suck it up and wait until he was summoned.

It was almost twenty breems later when Prowl and Hardwire stepped out of the office and into the hall. Hardwire nodded his head submissively to Prowl and began to walk off without so much as a glance in Bulkhead's direction. Bulkhead started after him, his battle computer whirring to life once more before Prowl cut it off with the cold command of, "Halt. Hardwire has been cleared of all charges and is free to go."

Bulkhead blinked in shock and tried to fight off the sudden sinking feeling in his spark, "What? How?"

Prowl fixed the taller mech with a stare that could only be described as cold, "That is the matter we will be discussing in my office in three breems. Inside."

Bulkhead followed the Commander inside the painfully neat office again, his processor feeling more and more achy as his confusion mounted. _Now what?_

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Greetings everyone! Chapter Eleven is here! I am adding a very important explanation about the previous chapter in the Author's Note so please read it if you don't want to be confused later.**

**Review Response: Dear KHGiggle, hi! I hope the long awaited chapter met your expectations! I don't think Bulkhead's reaction is racial profiling, its simply an instinct hammered into him by the tragedies of war. It would be like getting bitten by a dog when you were little, other dogs you meet might be very nice, but you would be afraid of them all the same. Hardwire isn't much of a fighter by personality, but you are correct in saying that his circumstances do not leave much room for choice in the matter. I also have a plan for him in that regard, so there's that. Jazz and Starwish are getting along quite well aren't they? Surprising, considering how shy Starwish is, but their shared love of music definitely helps in that regard. Blaster, eh? I recently read a few fan fiction stories featuring him and would love to have Starwish meet him someday. Not sure when that would happen though, maybe Blaster could get transferred over to Algol base? I'll think about it. Yes, this story will take a while. I'm hoping to make it all the way to the end of Predacons Rising. Though that may entail turning this story into a series... anyway, we will see a lot of changes and growth in the characters. I am not exactly sure on when they are, but I know it is several vorns before the Exodus from Cybertron. Starwish will have at least come of age by the time the planetary evacuation is called so that is about six vorns at minimum. One of your theories on what happened to them is fairly close (smile smugly) but not completely there. You will ****just have to wait and see. In the meantime, I can tell you that the dolls are indeed a clue as to what happened to them.**

**Dear SunnySides, hello! That is for me to know and you to either figure out or find out eventually. I will explain Prowl's actions in the Author's Note since, unfortunately, I couldn't seem to work it into the story narrative. Here is a new update for you as requested.**

**Dear Sunstreaker's Squishy, nice to see you again! No, Hardwire is not going to 'come clean' yet about his circumstance. Who would believe him? It sounds totally crazy, even to Hardwire and he's the one it happened too! I agree with you about Prowl glitching, however, the act is beyond hilarious in my opinion.**

**Author's Note: Okay, as stated above, I have some explaining to do about the last chapter. At the end of chapter ten, Hardwire got off scot free and Bulkhead was summoned into the office. You will recall that Prowl was present when Ratchet told Optimus that the many glitches in Hardwire, Starwish, and the twinling's processors were the cause of someone tampering with them and that the lack of subspace subroutines indicated that someone had forcibly accessed their subspace and either placed or removed an object within. Therefor, when Prowl got the report of Hardwire's mysterious weapon, he logically deduced that the processor hacker had forced it into Hardwire's subspace for currently unknown reasons or that it was a weapon inserted into Hardwire's subspace as a youngling by his mech creator and placed under a time-lock to make sure his creation couldn't find it until he was the correct age. So, when he was alone with Hardwire in his office he simply told Hardwire that Ratchet had detected glitches in his memory core and that judging by his family history, the weapon was most likely something his mech creator had pre-inserted into Hardwire's subspace that just now became accessible. He also coaxed Hardwire into telling him about the other weapon in his subspace (a back mounted cannon) and after strictly telling him not to draw either weapons unless either supervised or under attack, let him go. Next he called Bulkhead into his office and explained the same thing to the Wrecker and ordered him to keep quiet about it so as not to cause more prejudice among the ranks against Hardwire.**

**There, that was a really long explanation and I hope it makes sense. I really wanted to explain that in a future chapter but ... it just didn't seem to happen. On to another matter, there are new arrivals in this chapter! Arriving today is Elita-One (G1), Flareup (G1), and Moonracer (G1)! As always, please let me know how I do with them and if my Wiki research paid off. I think that is all I need to say so ... on to the chapter!**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Meltdown**

"Alright, stop!" Starwish dropped into an easy ready stance and panted to cool her systems as she awaited her teacher's next command. Ironhide strode up to her, his blue optics critical, "Not bad, Star. You're improving. But your guard still slips whenever you attack from the right. That's how Bee here is able to take you down so often."

Starwish nodded, shamefaced. Although she appeared to be older than Bumblebee physically, the adorable yellow mech had much more training than she did. Leading to her often getting her rump proverbially handed to her during the practice fights Ironhide refereed. Still, she had managed to defeat the lithe young scout-to-be once or twice today and for that she was inwardly pleased.

Ironhide's fist came out of nowhere, threatening to smash her faceplates in. With a yelp, she leaned away from the incoming hit and preformed a backward roll, coming out of it and into a combat stance seamlessly. Only to be staring into the glowing barrel of Ironhide's right hand cannon. With a small whine, the cannon powered down and Ironhide dropped his hand, a stern look on his face, "Pay attention, youngling. What I'm saying is **important**."

Starwish stood and dipped her head apologetically, "I'm sorry, Ironhide."

Ironhide grunted, "Saying 'sorry' won't stop you from getting blasted to bits on the battlefield if you let your guard down like that. Now, the way you rolled to dodge my punch was admirable, as was your come out into a combat stance. But you didn't access your subspace and get a weapon. By the time you settled into your stance and **then** pulled a blaster, a 'Con would have blasted you already. **Always** keep your focus on the world around you. Even when you don't think there is a threat nearby."

Starwish nodded obediently, mentally promising to do better the next time and fighting the random urge to sniffle. An urge she'd been fighting a lot lately. Ironhide had turned to Bumblebee and was critiquing his performance just a sternly as he had critiqued hers. One thing Starwish had noticed early on was that while Ironhide clearly adored his adopted son, when it came to combat and weapons training he took no excuses. From anyone. She had mentioned his almost heavy handed fairness in training to Jazz once, to which the saboteur had grimly replied, "If he let 'Bee off in trainin', then it wouldn' do him much good now would it? 'Cons don't take it easy on no bot. 'Hide's just makin' sure thah those he cares abou' have all tha tools they need ta come home ta him."

As her thoughts unconsciously wandered off of the topic of Ironhide in favor of the smooth talking Jazz, some instinct inside her suddenly caused her to raise her arms in a defense and spin to face the looming motion that her mind translated as a threat.

There was a yelp of surprise and a crash of metal as her right hand lashed out in a preemptive open style strike and collided with a sensitive point on the intruder's wrist. The strike to the wrist wires caused her opponent to stagger back in surprise, trip over a spare punching bag laid out on the floor, and fall with a terrific cacophony of noise.

It wasn't until her brain finally caught up with her reflexes that she realized that Ironhide was laughing so hard he had to sit down. Vents working to cool her systems, again, she blinked a few times before catching sight of a certain tall red and blue mech sprawled out on the training floor mats with a startled expression on his face. _Oh-!_ Several unrepeatable english expletives that she had accidentally picked up from her foster father Rodney lanced through her mind at the sight of Optimus Prime carefully rolling back onto his feet from where she had inadvertently knocked him down.

Starwish felt like either running away, melting into a horrified puddle of goo on the floor, or laughing at the absurdity of what had just happened. Since she was too scared to laugh, physically couldn't melt at that current moment, and couldn't summon the will power to run away, she instead just stood there, mouth agape as the leader of all Autobots stood to his feet and rubbed his wrist ruefully. Despite her desperate urge to cry and apologize profusely, all she could manage was a squeaky sounding, "I … sorry."

Ironhide lumbered over to her and lightly patted her shoulder, his, highly misdirected in her opinion, approval practically suffocating the room like a cloud of smog, "Don't apologize, femme! That was perfect! Serves Prime right for trying to sneak up on a student of **mine**."

Optimus's face was neutral as he eyed first Ironhide and then Starwish, "It was not my intention to 'sneak up' on anyone. I was merely arriving for our scheduled sparing session. Seeing as you were not quite finished with your combat lesson, I was attempting to move to the sidelines to wait. Although," he looked down contemplatively at Starwish, who immediately averted her eyes to floor and blushed, "that wire strike was admirably executed. I apologize for startling you Starwish, it was not my intent."

Starwish glanced shyly up at the Prime, surprised by his apology to her. But then again, he was the most compassionate of all of the characters in the Transformers continuity. Realizing that she was supposed to reply, she murmured quietly, "It's fine. I should have been paying attention. Just like Ironhide said. Sorry … for knocking you over, sir."

Ironhide tapped her head firmly, "A lesson to both of you, then. Class dismissed for today, you two go wash up and have fun the rec room or something. I need to kick Prime's aft-er plating for what he did." Starwish couldn't stop the smile that flickered across her face at his sloppy coverup of the curse word as she and Bumblebee left the training room. Ironhide apparently had a very foul mouth when younglings weren't around and sometimes he would slip up in his word usage. Not that Starwish minded much, he was much more careful about it than most adults on Earth.

As the door to training room 2B slid shut, successfully muting the noise of the two larger mechs talking, Bumblebee finally blurted, "I can't believe you caused Optimus to stumble like that!"

Starwish glowered defensively, "I didn't mean too!"

Bumblebee laughed, his door-wings splaying outward in a show of pleasure, "I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying that he's normally more alert and composed. It really is his fault for tripping over the punching bag." Starwish cocked her head to one side, the adolescent Cybertronian was very cheeky.

Curiosity overcame her and she asked, "You talk about Prime like you know him well. Have you known him long?"

Bumblebee tucked his wings shyly, "Ever since I can remember. I don't know who my creators were, Ironhide just found me one day in the wreckage of a housing unit, half starved and bawling my optics out. Ironhide and Chromia are my guardians, but Optimus has always been there for me when I need him most." Bumblebee looked absently out a window as they passed it, "He's there for everyone when they need him. He's more than a leader to us, he's … he's … I don't know what to call him. Prime cares about us, fights for us, he may punish us, but never unfairly. Everybot in this army trusts him and would gladly give up their spark for him, because they know he'll do the same."

Starwish thoughtfully gazed at the floor, Bumblebee's trusting description sent a pang of longing through her, _he's a father. A father to everyone. _"A what?"

Starwish jerked her head up and blushed, "Oh, did I say that out loud?"

Bumblebee nodded, his huge optics bored into hers curiously, "Uh-huh. You said that Prime is a …" he paused, his mouth working to say the word, "Fa- fah- _fa'her_. What does that mean?"

_Boy does that word sound strange when he says it. I keep forgetting that I'm somehow speaking Cybertronian. _Starwish scrambled for an answer, looking up at the ceiling to buy time as they weaved through a small crowd of mechs, "Well … _father_ means the same thing as what you described Prime. A mech who is loving, kind, firm but fair, and is always ready to defend you against the enemy. _Father_ is well … I guess you could say it's a word for a mech creator. Only a _father_ doesn't have to be directly related to you. In fact, some of the best ones aren't. But they are mechs who treat you with the same love and devotion as they would their own creation."

She paused and glanced at Bumblebee, he was staring at her intently, "Does that make sense?" She asked hopefully.

Bumblebee nodded, "I think so. Where did that word come from? It doesn't sound Cybertronian."

Starwish felt like running off somewhere to smack her head against a wall repeatedly for letting an English word slip. _Then again, you couldn't know that you would say it out loud._ "It isn't. It's a word from a language that is spoken on a planet really, really far away. My … my creators taught it to me."

Bumblebee's wings rose, "Really? That's amazing! I wish I could speak in another language!" _You will someday._

"Well, now you know a very important word in another language." Looking up ahead, Starwish felt a wave of relief come over her at the sight of the wash rack doors, "Here we are. You'd better wash up, Ironhide won't like it if you go wandering around looking like something the Cyber Cat dragged in."

Bumblebee snorted, "Says the femme who looks like an old toy a Turbo Hound buried for a vorn. See yah when you're done." Bumblebee disappeared into the mech's side of the wash racks and Starwish breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the femmes side.

And into total chaos. She froze just inside the room, staring slack-jawed at what appeared to be a femme convention. _I thought Chromia and I were the only ones on base!_ As if summoned by the thought, the blue and white femme looked up from where she was lounging in the cleaning pool with a half smirk, "Speak of Unicron, here she is now. Elita, femmes, meet Starwish, youngest of our noble make currently on base and the **only** femme to actually carry out the threat of using a buzz saw on Jazz."

While the others called hellos or raised a hand in greeting, a teal colored femme waved enthusiastically, "Hello there, Starwish! Come and join us, won't you?"

Starwish blinked several times, "Um…"

The tall femme calmly washing a pink painted chest plate smiled indulgently at Chromia and the teal femme, "Come now, Moonracer, you cannot expect her to simply come and join us when she doesn't even know our designations." Looking up, she spoke gently, "My designation is Elita-One and these are my companions, Moonracer and Flareup. You have already met Chromia I see. Please, do not let us stop you from your washing."

Starwish shot Chromia a hooded look, she hadn't quite forgiven the blue woman for shooting Hardwire and up until that point had even been purposely avoiding meeting Chromia for fear she would say or do something that would get her in a lot of trouble. Inching forward, Starwish quietly mumbled hello and shuffled over to stand underneath the shower head farthest from the cleaning pool. As she palmed the control to turn it on she mentally argued on whether or not to remove her armor.

She knew she should, the medical encyclopedia in her head advised removing all armor and washing her protoform at least every two metacycles. Her modesty and shy demeanor however, quailed in fear at the thought of exposing her cables and wiring to strangers. _And the one who shot Hardwire._ Starwish shook her head as the cleaning solution poured over her, making her shiver. She despised the stuff, it felt almost like water, but it was just a tiny bit different. Just different enough to make her shiver in discomfort.

Stubbornly refusing to look over at the quietly chatting ladies, Starwish reluctantly began to peel off her armor piece by piece, trying desperately not to cringe as she sensed someone in the cleaning pool watching her. That someone turned out to be Chromia.

The cheeky blue femme called out, "Aw, come on femling! Join us! It's nice in here and much better for washing protoform."

Starwish ground her teeth together, "No, thank you. I'd rather wash over here."

Chromia's tone turned sarcastic, "Too high class for us hard working femmes, eh? Come on! It'll be fun!"

Although she had tried her best not to let it show during the day, Starwish was on a knife's edge of stress. Being changed into a Cybertronian, being on Cybertron during a war, constantly wondering about how both of those things had happened and what it must seem like to her foster parents and friends who she would probably never see again. All of those things and a host of other tiny happenings from over the past four metacycles placed a constant strain on her temper and emotional control.

Chromia's snarky prodding finally broke the dam. Whirling on Chromia and glaring at her from her position in the shower Starwish snarled venomously, "Well excuse me if I don't happen to feel like showing off my protoform to you over there. Excuse me if I happen to be shy around others and not prefer to socialize to often. **Excuse me** if I'm not very inclined to have a playdate with three total strangers and the femme who **shot my brother**." Impulsively, she grabbed a cube of soap and flung it at Chromia with an angered scream of, "_Just_ _leave me _**_alone_**_!_"

Chromia's hand whipped up to grab the soap cube right before it hit her head and Starwish felt her vision film over with tears. She suddenly felt like she was suffocating, her shoulders heaved as she took sobbing breaths and bolted for the door blindly, forgetting that she was without armor.

There were startled shouts from behind and just before she darted out of the door, strong arms wrapped around her middle and dragged her back. Starwish struggled blindly, her vents working harder as the suffocating feeling grew stronger and stronger, "_Let me go! Let me go!_" The strong arms around her middle were aided by other arms grabbing hold of her flailing limbs as she was dragged back into the wash racks.

* * *

Chromia helped Elita and Flareup drag the small but fierce white femme away from the door. She was currently unarmored and letting her run outside where mechs could see would be even worse than fighting it out with her inside. "Hey! Stop! You can't go out there, you're unarmored!"

Even though Starwish's optics were clouded by energon tears, she still managed to land a hard kick against Chromia's shin, causing the older femme to grit her denta in pain. Elita commed her hastily, ::Chromia! Stop and get out of her line of sight, you're only making it worse!:: Chromia stepped back obediently, moving to stand unobtrusively in an unoccupied shower stall while Elita, Moonracer, and Flareup worked to calm the near hysterical Starwish.

Chromia tried not to let her spark break as she was forced to watch from the sidelines as Starwish stopped struggling and just lay on the wash racks floor, sobbing. Elita pulled the tiny femling to her chest and shushed her gently while simultaneously holding an intercom conversation with Chromia, ::Chromia, start explaining. Right now.::

The blue femme chewed unhappily on her bottom lip component, ::I … I'm sorry Elita. I didn't know she'd break like that. I was just trying to get her to loosen up. Ironhide always says that she's a shy femling who needs to be encouraged a little before she opens up to others. I thought a little good natured teasing would help. I in no way meant to make her cry.::

Elita looked up sympathetically at her second in command, obviously things between the neutral youngling and her long time friend were far from smooth, ::I know you didn't. I do not think this is entirely your fault either. The past few cycles have most likely been a huge strain on her systems.::

Moonracer paused in the act of gently petting Starwish's back and commed, ::Uh, is it just me, or is she muttering nonsense? Because I can't understand a word she's saying.::

Chromia mentally weighed the consequences of telling her friends that Starwish was a creation of Novalek survivors. _I can trust them, but Ratchet will probably have my helm if I spill._ Deciding to go with only a few of the facts for the moment she said, ::Her creators taught her a non-Cybertronian language as a sparkling. That's probably what you're hearing.::

Flareup cocked her head to one side, ::Poor thing. Her creators are dead aren't they?::

Chromia sighed softly, ::Probably. Her former guardians too.::

Elita gently lifted the youngling into her arms, smiling compassionately down at Starwish, who's crying and stressed frame had driven her recharge protocols to activate. ::That explains the meltdown. Her spark must be under enormous strain after losing multiple bonds. Come help me clean her up a little bit. No sense in bringing her out of recharge, poor thing would offline from embarrassment in all probability.::

Chromia smiled thinly at Elita as she came out of the corner and picked up a piece of discarded white armor, ::I'll handle her armor. You can dip her in the pool for a while.::

As the four femmes voluntarily worked on washing the newcomer, Flareup suddenly asked, ::Did you really shoot her brother?::

Chromia did her best not to glower, ::Unfortunately, yes. We were scouting an abandoned 'Con base and he came tearing around the corner. He's got some of the reddest colored optics I've ever seen and, well, … I nailed him in the leg with my blaster.::

Moonracer looked mildly scandalized and Flareup snarked cheerfully, ::Only the leg? You're slipping teach'.::

Chromia absentmindedly took just enough time from her dutiful scrubbing of a vambrace to throw a polishing cloth at her former student, ::I was under orders to capture not kill, student mine. Anyways, I got him good in the leg and because he was suffering energon deprivation he went straight into shock. I got a major lecture from Ratchet and when Starwish saw her brother in medical stasis she fritzed. We've been avoiding each other ever since.:: Chromia decided not to mention that this wasn't the first attack. But, technically, the time when she saw her brother in stasis didn't really count. Anyone would have done that in her place.

Moonracer raised an optic ridge, ::All that and she only now attacks you? I fairly certain that Flareup would have done **much** worse.::

Flareup grinned dryly, ::Yes, yes I would have.::

Elita finished carefully scrubbing the recharging Starwish's frame and lifted her out of the cleaning pool to dry, ::No wonder she threw a soap cube at you.:: Glancing tenderly down at the youngling in her arms she commented, ::I suppose this is what taking care of a sparkling is like. Are you finished washing her armor Chromia?::

Chromia nodded and carefully helped Elita fasten the oblivious femme's armor back on. Stepping back, Chromia eyed the now sparkling clean femling critically, ::Okay, now what?::

Elita gingerly settled Starwish on a bench, ::We finish our own washing and then deliver her to her guardian. Who is her guardian by the way? I presume Optimus assigned her one until she comes of age.::

Chromia snorted softly as she stepped under a shower head, ::Yes he did. Prime saw fit to assign Ultra Magnus as her guardian until something better could be arranged.::

Moonracer's optics went wide and she sputtered out loud, "**What**?" She then blushed as the other three femmes shushed her. ::Sorry about that. But seriously, Ultra Magnus? A **mech**?::

::Yes, a mech. In case you hadn't noticed, most of the 'bots on this entire base are comprised of that make. Most of them are also unmated and highly interested in femmes. Since having her bunk with me, Ironhide, and Bumblebee was clearly not a good idea and you were all off base, Ultra Magnus was really the only choice Prime had other than himself.::

Elita sighed, ::I will speak with Optimus about ratifying that situation as soon as possible.:: The pink and white leader of all female Autobots finished latching the last piece of her armor into place and moved to pick up Starwish once more, ::For the moment though, I will take her back to Ultra Magnus's quarters.::

Chromia stood up from where she'd been attaching a leg guard, ::I'll meet up with you later. I believe I have an apology to go plan for::

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hello everyone! I am back with a twin-centric chapter!**

**Review Response: Dear TFAN Override, hi! I'm afraid part of your review alludes me. Do you mean you would like to see Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, Zip and Track preform a prank together? If so, know that I have plans to do just that, but it may not show up for a long time yet. Or it might become a one-shot, I'm not sure yet. Definitely embarrassing for both Optimus and Starwish, it was also fun to write. Here is an update! Thank you for the review!**

**Dear Something dictionary related, hello there! Thank you, I try my best. Hmm, so many interesting theories, I commend your cleverness. However, none of them are completely correct, though one or two are similar to what is happening. I hope you like this chapter!**

**Dear KHGiggle, greetings! I agree with you on the transition and I have repeatedly gone over my older chapters wondering how to show that their transition if far from smooth but ... I am horrible at writing repeated breakdown/stress scenes. I write in more of a 'it builds up silently and then explodes all at once' then 'repeatedly breaks down and freaks out' though I am capable of repeated breakdowns if I absolutely have too. But as I see, Starwish is too shy to cry in public and would thus do it in private, Hardwire would do his utmost to remain stoic whenever he was around others and for the twinlings this is all a big game. Add to that shock and subconscious denial of the situation and you have the perfect delayed timer for an emotional meltdown. I really want to add more femmes, but those (and Arcee from TF Prime) are the only ones I know at all. Though I have been doing research on Firestar to some extent so who knows? You are correct on both counts, English makes an appearance whenever a word does not have an equivalent or when Starwish and her family are too excited/angry/stressed for their mental translator to function properly. Maybe, I am currently working on posting a new story doc just for one-shots, but we'll see where that goes. (Reads review, smiles knowingly) there will be another hint for you in another couple of chapters, so keep an eye peeled for it. Yes, all the way to Predacons Rising, I anticipate liberal time-jumps in some areas but that is where my brain says the ending is. As for how many chapters it will be, I have no idea, estimation is not my forte when it comes to story length. This one has already surpassed all of my other documents in size and Starwish hasn't even left Cybertron yet!****  
**

**Dear denis.d2505, hello! Paint jobs, yes, easily as long as the correct materials are lying about. But as for optics ... let me explain my personal reasoning. Optics are something built into the frame itself and wired directly to the processor, therefor, it isn't a simple matter to replace them if you don't want to permanently damage the 'nerves' connecting the optic to the processor. While optics can be replaced, they are expensive and relatively hard to come by leading to some never getting a lost optic replaced because of damage or rarity (Breakdown's run in with mech anyone?). So, yes, Hardwire and Starwish could get their optics replaced if they really wanted to, but their current ones work fine and there are others fighting in the war who need replacement parts far more than they do, so, they don't say anything about it. Jazz and Ironhide were Decepticons? Where did you find that out? I've looked over every wiki I can think of and haven't seen anything about that! (blinks in confusion) Could you elaborate on that, please? As for Hardwire's paint job, it isn't very 'Decepticon' or 'Autobot' it is simply green. Sort of like Bulkhead's paint jobs only a different shade of green.**

**Dear SunnySides hi! Nope, but interesting guess! Here is an update as requested.**

**Dear Yoake no tenshi, hello for the first time! Thank you, I try my best to make my stories interesting.**

**Author's Note: Okay everyone, two new Autobots show up in this chapter! Introducing Cliffjumper from Transformers Prime and Blurr from Transformers Animated. I really liked their characters in their respective shows and wish they hadn't killed them off. It wasn't fair. Anyway, I'm surprised about how everyone reacted to the fact that this isn't a reincarnation story. Pleased and impressed with all of the clever guesses you have posted, but surprised. Oh well, it will just make the upcoming chapters more interesting (villainous eyebrow wiggle, mob of Transformers action figures steals computer with spoiler intent, chases after them frantically) Excuse me everyone and enjoy the chapter! (yells at action figures, "come back here! Grimlock, Strafe! Hey!")**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this ****fan fiction. The only things I own is the plot and my OCs Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, Buffer, and Flash Fire.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Art**

Fast Track inched forward, watching Sunstreaker carefully out of the corner of his eye in case the yellow mech noticed him. It was after lunch and Zipline was playing a racing game with Sideswipe. But Fast Track didn't want to play that right now, he was itching to do something special, something secret.

Sunstreaker remained absorbed in whatever he was painting, enabling Fast Track to sneak past him to the closet and pull out a datapad and stylus after a bit of rummaging. Clicking happily to himself, Fast Track crawled under a berth and after some inspection, figured out how to power on the datapad. As soon as the totally blank white screen popped up, Fast Track knew he had exactly what he wanted.

With a pleased smile, Fast Track set his metal drawing utensil against the smooth screen of the pad and began happily tracing the images only his mind could see. It didn't take very long for the blank screen of the datapad to become increasingly filled with swirls, loops, random character designs and pictures of fictional super weapons. Sensing his brother's giddy excitement at how fast his digital race car was going, Track let it influence his picture, paying painstaking attention to the shape and details of the race car he was now drawing.

When his work surface was finally covered to the breaking point with sketches and doodles, Fast Track paused and sighed. _Great, now what?_ He cocked his head to one side, he remembered that on human touch screen computers, to change a page a person would swipe their fingers across the screen from right to left. _Why not?_ Setting the stylus down for the moment, he swiped his fingers experimentally across the pad and grinned with delight when the datapad chimed softly and switched to a blank page.

He resumed drawing, happily oblivious to the fact that Sunstreaker was now silently crouched by the berth, watching his every move with puzzled optics.

* * *

Sunstreaker watched the red and grey mechling happily scribble away on one of **his** drawing pads but made no move to take the pilfered article back. He was, frankly, dumbfounded. What were the odds of one of the twin heralds of Unicron would be interested in art?

Sideswipe, sensing his brother's bafflement, sent a question over the bond,_ "Everything okay, Sunny?"_

Sunstreaker decided in that split nano-klik that the younger twin's drawing habits were to remain a secret to all but himself, _"I'm wondering why that pit-spawn your playing against hasn't fully kicked your aft yet. For a mech who claims to be so amazing on the race track, you're a glitch when it comes to racing games."_

Sideswipe directed an angry growl at Sunstreaker without bothering to look away from the holo-track were Zipline was stubbornly beginning to outpace him. _"Very funny, Sunny. Are you keeping an optic on the other one?"_

Sunstreaker slowly stood up, careful not to make any sound that would disturb the doodling mechling, _"Yeah, he's fine. Entertaining himself with something harmless."_ He kept his face neutral as Sideswipe crashed his game avatar into a building, causing it to explode spectacularly, _"Unlike some. You do know that if you keep doing that you're going to teach him to love explosions even more than Ironhide does, right?"_

Sideswipe huffed and leaned closer to the holo-track, _"Nah! Explosions come after Pranks 1-0-1."_ Sunstreaker suppressed a groan as he went back to painting in a copy of the sketch he had done of Starwish. _Great. I can't wait to see what happens when they're given over to a temporary caretaker so that we can go on patrol. I should probably tell Prime not to let those two anywhere near Prowl … or Red Alert._

While the mental images of stiff and logical Prowl having to deal with the hyperactive youngsters made him smile a little bit, he had to pause in his painting to shudder at the thought of what Red Alert might unintentionally do to the younglings in the name of 'safety'.

He heard Zipline give a triumphant whoop of glee and felt a wave of stunned disbelief wash over the bond from Sideswipe and briefly glanced up to see Zipline's digital race car doing triumphant laps in celebration of a won race. _"Congratulations Sides, you just got beaten by a sixteen vorn old youngling in a complex holographic racing course. For the twenty-fifth time. In. A. Row."_

Sideswipe twisted in his seat to glare daggers at Sunstreaker, who just smirked smugly and returned to his painting. Zipline grabbed Sideswipe's arm and shouted, "Again! Again! I wanna go again!"

Sideswipe groaned and looked helplessly at the controller, "That's the twenty-fifth game Zipline. Haven't you had enough?" Zipline gave him a long look that indicated that the youngling considered his complaint proof that Sideswipe was clinically insane. Sideswipe sighed, "Can't Fast Track play with you for a while?"

Zipline's optics glanced briefly over to the berth Fast Track was hiding under before looking back at Sideswipe, "He's too busy to play with me."

Sideswipe looked incredulously at the hiding place, "Seriously? With what?" Eager to take a break from getting his after-plating holographically handed to him, Sideswipe began to roll forward to investigate.

Sunstreaker bristled protectively, "Just can it and play with Zipline, Sides. Fast Track is being **quiet** and I'd like to keep it that way."

Sideswipe shot his brother a long, withering look, _"Says the one who has been pointedly ignoring everybot! Give me break here, Sunny!"_

Sunstreaker remained, as ever, unmoved by his sibling's plea, _"Your fault, your problem. Besides, you don't have to play a vid game with him, do something else that's interesting."_

Sideswipe paused, thinking Sunstreaker's suggestion over while Zipline struggled to use the red mech as a climbing apparatus. The mechling was doing an admirable job of it too, until Sideswipe became irritated, working Zipline loose from his shoulder plating and setting him on the floor. Zipline whined and began wander dangerously close to Sunstreaker.

The golden mech spared a glance from his painting to shoot the youngling a warning look. He didn't trust the mechling he personally considered to be the mini version of Sideswipe, especially not around his traditional style paints. The pit-spawn and his sibling had already ruined a good supply of his favorite brand. _"Sides … get it away from me, now."_

Sideswipe glowered and answered out loud, "And do what? The least you could do is offer an alternative!"

Sunstreaker huffed in exasperation, "Take him on a tour or something! Let him become familiar with others on the base. They'll both need temporary caretakers when the rest of our leave is up anyway. Might as well find out who Zip gets along with at least."

Sideswipe perked up, "Hey! That's a great idea!" Looking down at the decidedly bored Zipline, Sideswipe said, "So, Zip, want a tour of the base?"

Zipline instantly perked and started chattering fast enough to befuddle Blurr, "Really? Yes! Yes! Yes! Can we meet more Autobots? Can we fight some Decepticons? How big is this base? Can we go the armory? I want a sword! How big are they? _This is so cool_! _Fast Track! Fast Track! Come on! Sideswipe is going to show us the base and get us a sword_!" Sunstreaker eyed Zipline uneasily. That was the second time the youngling had suddenly spouted sounds that made absolutely no sense. _Hope the little Scraplet doesn't have some kind of glitch._

Before he could mentally confer with Sideswipe over that possibility, Fast Track came shooting out from under the berth, spouting the same indecipherable sounds Zipline had started to use, "_Really? Cool! I want dual blades, like Optimus_!"

Sideswipe glanced worriedly at Sunstreaker, _"I'm beginning to think that there is something seriously wrong with those two."_ Accompanying his mental words was a 'please don't leave me alone with them' feeling over their bond.

Sunstreaker repressed his first urge to say 'no', instead choosing to set his paint brush down and stand. While he would have preferred privacy, the memory of what had happened the first cycle of being a guardian when Sideswipe had been left to supervise the younglings was still too fresh to ignore. Better to accompany the three and run damage control. _And hope that I don't wind up in the brig._ "All right you two, settle down." The younglings didn't settle down, if anything they became even more hyper. Sunstreaker ground his denta together as he palmed the door open and 'released the turbo-hounds'.

Sideswipe bolted through the door with the same eagerness as Zipline and Fast Track, causing Sunstreaker to roll his optics heavenwards pleadingly, _What did I do to deserve this? Recently?_

* * *

Sideswipe rolled down the hallway with his twin, finding himself once again surprised at how anything with as small a set of legs as younglings had could move so glitching **fast**. This was technically the first sanctioned outing for the younger twins, he and Sunstreaker had managed to keep the younglings mostly contained in their quarters, entertaining them with games as best they could. _Well, best I could._ Throughout the entire grueling process, Sunstreaker had kept his distance, leaving Sideswipe to deal with Zip and Track for the most part unless the situation called for his icy glare and stern resolve.

After the washrack disaster, Sideswipe had been afraid to let the twins out to the rest of the base, thus leading to a competition of what would break first, Sideswipe's sanity or the younglings resolve to escape. It had turned out to be neither as yet, because Sideswipe's sanity, or what little he possessed in the first place, was still there even after the fifth successful escape attempt. _Good thing we know every inch of this base and every hiding place there is._ However, the most recent containment effort had been successful the longest, no one wanted a repeat of the power grid incident.

_I still don't know how Zipline managed to wrap himself in power couplings and not get fried._ He couldn't help but snigger slightly at the memory of Red Alert glitching out and running around screaming like a femling about how many security and safety protocols the youngling was blatantly ignoring. His snigger died when he remember the lecture he had gotten from Prowl followed by a sound aft kicking from Ironhide and Chromia all for not paying better attention to the mechlings.

Sunstreaker pinged the bond sharply, _"Pay attention!"_ Sideswipe jerked from his thoughts just in time to skid to stop, barely avoiding crashing into a tall green mech who was being turned into a climbing apparatus by Zipline and Fast Track.

The twins were squealing happily, "Hardwire! You're free!"

The green mech, who stood about a head taller than them, chuckled quietly as he was climbed, "Sure am, how about you two? Getting into tons of trouble?"

Zipline perched on the mech's right shoulder cheerfully, "Lots! Lots and lots!"

Fast Track, who was perched on the mech's left shoulder, began chattering eagerly in the strange non-Cybertronian 'language' he had earlier when excited. Instead of looking confused, the mech simply nodded and laughed as if understanding. Sideswipe felt his body go tight as the mech turned around, revealing deep ruby optics. Sunstreaker was also tense, his combat computer working in conjunction with a previously dormant string of parental subroutines to scream mentally, 'my younglings! No touchy!'

Sideswipe fingered his swords but kept them in subspace. There had to be a good reason a red opticed mech was here in Algol, plus, Zip and Track seemed to know him. The mech looked up, sensing their hostile gazes. He stiffened slightly and a tiny fake smile slid over his mouth, "Hey, you two must be their guardians, right?"

Sunstreaker crossed his arms over his chest plates, "That's right. Who the frag are you?"

The mech dipped his helm submissively, "Name's Hardwire, I'm their older brother." Zipline, apparently irritated at the sudden lack of attention from his older sibling, lightly rapped his fist on Hardwire's helm.

Hardwire reached up, casually grabbed Zipline's ankle, and with one swift movement held him upside down, "What have I told you about hitting to get attention?"

Zipline squealed and laughed, waving his arms in pleasure at the odd position. Sideswipe paused and slowly felt his frame relax a tiny bit. _Oh yeah. Prime did say that Starwish and the twins had an older brother with red optics. _Sunstreaker also seemed to relax a fraction, now that their primary concern was appeased.

Sensing that Sunstreaker was not quite in the mood to say anything friendly, Sideswipe stepped up as spokesbot, "I'm Sideswipe and this overly glossy mech is my brother Sunstreaker. Mind giving Zipline back?"

Hardwire glanced down at the upside-down youngling who was still shrieking and squirming, "Sure." With an expert flip, dull green mech righted his sibling and set him on the ground. The moment his little pedes touched the ground, Zipline was attempting to climb Hardwire again, chattering eagerly about the games Sideswipe had played with him and such.

Fast Track piped up from where he was perched contentedly on Hardwire's shoulder, but his words were unintelligible to Sideswipe. Hardwire appeared to understand them however, because he immediately scowled and looked over darkly at Sideswipe, "What is this about giving my brothers a giant sword?"

Sunstreaker eyed him blankly, "What?"

Hardwire placed his servos on his hips, "He just said that you were going to give him a giant sword. Is that true?"

Sideswipe mused a little, "You know-"

Sunstreaker cut him off immediately, well aware that Hardwire most likely had a very finite patience and that getting into a fight in front of the younglings would just earn them another beating via Ironhide, "No. We aren't."

Sideswipe shrugged, willing to go with Sunstreaker on that one and asked, "How can you understand him anyway? That all sounds like nonsense to me."

Hardwire's optics darted to the floor briefly, "It's another language. Our guardians taught it to us." Reaching up, Hardwire grabbed his twin brothers and set them on the ground, "You two have fun, alright? I need to go do something."

Zipline and Fast Track whined pitifully, reluctant to let Hardwire simply walk away. The taller mech remained unmoved by the twins' pleas however, and soon had disappeared around the corner. Sideswipe scowled, _"Well isn't he just a happy go lucky mech."_

Sunstreaker seemed more thoughtful, _"He was in a bad mood, that's for certain. Probably having trouble getting along with everyone because of his optics."_ Sideswipe considered the theory and found it valid, by now it was instinct to regard anyone with red optics with suspicion, even if Optimus himself said he was cleared.

Sideswipe was jerked from his thoughts by the feeling of something climbing steadily up his leg, "**Ah**!" He rolled backwards and flailed his arms at the foreign feeling.

Sunstreaker calmly caught him by the shoulder plate, "Look down."

Sideswipe stopped flailing and looked down, Zipline grinned up at him from where he was clinging to his guardian's left leg. "What. Are. You. Doing?" He hissed irritably.

Zipline smiled sweetly, "Wanna ride!"

From beside him, there was a soft, 'klink' noise that signaled that Fast Track was now latched onto Sunstreaker's leg. Sunstreaker snarled, "Hey! Watch the finish, glitch!"

There was a firm 'clang' and Sideswipe winced as the unexpected cuff from Ironhide sent Sunstreaker rolling forward a few meters against his will, "What have we told you about watching your language? No slurs around younglings!"

Fast Track giggled, he had managed to hold on to Sunstreaker during the forward motion and was apparently having fun. Sideswipe raised his servos defensively, "I didn't say anything!"

Ironhide eyed him balefully, "What are you four doing just standing in the hall?"

Sunstreaker rubbed the back of his helm as he replied, "Taking the sla-t twins on a tour." Ironhide nodded in brief approval for his save before looking down at the giggling mechlings.

Crouching down he asked, "And what are you two doing?"

Zipline inched a little bit higher on Sideswipe's leg, causing the unwilling climbing-apparatus to wince as some of his more sensitive cables were pinched, "Gettin' a ride to the armory! Sides is gonna get me a sword!"

Ironhide's helm jerked up and Sideswipe said hastily, "When he's **older**! Not right now! We were headed to the rec room right now!"

Ironhide looked like he only half believed the trouble making twin, but refrained from cuffing him none-the-less, "Alright then." Reaching down, he artfully pried Zipline from Sideswipe's leg and set the mechling on his own broad shoulder. The process was repeated with Fast Track and soon the weapons specialist was carrying the twins to the rec room, the older two trouble makers trailing along behind.

The door to the rec room slid open and Zipline and Fast Track gasped at the new sights, sounds, and smells that assaulted them as they entered the well populated room. Mechs on break crowded around the gambling table in the corner or perched on top of the sofa to watch the holo-movie playing on the floor.

A few mechs glanced up to see the newcomers and gasped when they spotted the curious younglings perched on Ironhide's shoulders. Blurr, having looked up from the movie, leaped off of the sofa and was at Ironhide's side in a klik, chattering away eagerly, "Are-those-younglings? Where-did-they-come-from? They-are-so-cute! Can-I-hold-one? What-are-their-designations? Are-they-yours? Well-of-course-they-can't-be-yours-yours-because-you-and-Chromia-clearly-stated-that-you-weren't-having-younglings-yet-but-still-they-look-like-they-could-be-yours-not-to-call-you-a-liar-or-"

Ironhide reached over and clamped a servo over Blurr's mouthplates firmly, "Slower Blurr. Slower." Removing his servo from Blurr's mouth, he motioned to the slack-jawed younglings, "This is Zipline and Fast Track, they're two of the refugees we brought in a few metacycles ago. As for who's they are," reaching up he calmly lifted the younglings and plopped them into Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's arms, "They belong to Sunny and Sides here."

There was total silence at that statement. Sideswipe became painfully aware of how many open stares he was receiving. Zipline squirmed in his arms slightly, "Want down!" Sideswipe hesitantly set the mechling down and watched in befuddlement as the green and grey bundle of trouble zeroed in on Blurr, "Hi! I'm Zipline! Who are you? You talk really fast! Are you a racer? Cause you look like you could go really really fast! Have you fought lots of Decepticons? Can-you-teach-me-to-talk-as-fast-as-you-do?"

Blurr smiled down at Zipline and made a audible effort to speak slower, "Hello Zipline, my designation is Blur. Thank-you! I am indeed a-racer. I can go over nineteen-hundred-kilometers-per-hour."

Zipline's mouth made a tiny 'o' shape of awe and admiration. His optics were focused solely on Blurr, completely oblivious to the growing crowd of wondering mechs, many of whom hadn't seen a youngling his age before. Sideswipe bristled protectively and shoved his way through the crowd to stand possessively over Zipline.

Fast Track squirmed free of Sunstreaker's arms and darted into the forest of legs before his guardian could catch him again. The crowd was slightly unnerving, but the urge to be with his brother and Zipline's feeling of utter confidence gave him the courage he needed. Unfortunately, the courage didn't last for long. The forest of hard metal legs was too thick even for the short distance required and Fast Track was nudged roughly by unseeing pedes until he became completely lost.

Terror clutched at his spark and he called out desperately for Zipline, his distress causing him to forget their telepathic bond, "Zip? Zip, he! I lo! **Zip**?" Of course, Zipline could not hear him over the growing hubbub of mechs. Fast Track clutched his hands close to his body, trying unsuccessfully to huddle away from all of the strangers. Although he was reckless and bold when his brother was by his side, Fast Track was naturally the more timid and easily frightened of the two. So, a large crowd and no twin in sight was an almost sure recipe for panic.

"**Zip**!" Fast Track darted blindly around and between the moving metal pillars, trying to find a familiar face, any familiar face, within the group of strangers. His mad dash was halted when he collided shoulder first into a thick red leg. Landing hard on his butt, Fast Track whined miserably, Zipline's own panic over the seeming loss of his twin adding to his own.

Big hands gently scooped him up, eliciting a frightened squeak from the lost youngling, "Hey there little fella. A little bit lost?" Fast Track looked up with wide eyes into an unfamiliar silver faceplate of the red leg's owner. Large blue optics with the tiniest hint of green mixed in smiled comfortingly at him, "What's your designation youngling?"

"F-fast Track. Wh-who are you?" Fast Track couldn't shake off the feeling that he knew the big red mech, something about his easygoing smile slowly assuaging his anxieties.

"My designation is Cliffjumper, but you can call me Cliff if you like. Need a lift?" Fast Track stared intently at Cliffjumper's face for several seconds before deciding that this mech was trustworthy.

Fast Track settled in the Cliffjumper's hands, idly listening to the big red Autobot's sparkbeat as he nodded, "Yes, please." Cliffjumper flashed him a grin and began nudging his way through the crowd, which was becoming slightly hectic thank's to Sunstreaker's frantic shouting.

As he studied Cliffjumper's frame, Fast Track spotted two bull-like horns on Cliffjumper's helm, one on each side, and his memory clicked into place, "You're Cliffjumper."

Cliffjumper paused in his jostling of other mechs, "Yep, that's my designation and I believe we already determined that yours is Fast Track. Why, have you heard of me?"

Fast Track nodded, his mind briefly thinking back to the episode he had watched where Arcee recounted where she had first met him, "Uh-huh, but I'm not supposed to tell where."

Their conversation was put on hold when Cliffjumper finally made his way to the center of the crowd and was spotted by Sunstreaker, "Track!" The golden front-liner snatched Fast Track from Cliffjumper's hands fast enough to make the youngling slightly dizzy, "You glitch! What were you thinking running off into the crowd like that? You could have gotten hurt!"

Fast Track squirmed unhappily, his previous panic forgotten in favor of how Sunstreaker was holding him too tightly, "Nu-uh! Cliffjumper found me and took care of me. Put me down!"

Sunstreaker glowered, "No way you little spawn of a-" Cliffjumper coughed sternly and Sunstreaker hastily rephrased, "a mischief maker! You're staying with me!" Sideswipe rolled into view, Zipline held firmly in his arms.

Zipline shared an exasperated look with his twin, "Th' i no fu'. Wh' i tha?"

Fast Track motioned to Cliffjumper, oblivious to the surprised stares their twin speak were earning, "Th'? I Cliff! Ember? Fro th' T sho'? H' i Arc's par un' h' lef'."

Zipline regarded Cliffjumper with something akin to admiration, "Coo!"

Cliffjumper butted in, his tone one of amused confusion, "Uh … are your vocalizers working properly? 'Cause they don't sound like it."

Zipline rolled his eyes, Cliffjumper's question was by far one of the most idiotic ones yet, "Of course our vocalizers are working. Couldn't you hear us talking?"

Sideswipe muttered darkly, "Is that what you two were doing?"

Ironhide abruptly dispersed the crowd with a bellow, "**Hey**! What are you trying to do? Make the mechlings claustrophobic? Go back to what you were doing and let them play!" There was a reluctant pause that was hastily shattered when Ironhide roared, "**Move**!"

The mechs scattered around the room obediently and after much coaxing and pleading, Fast Track and Zipline were returned to the floor. Reunited and with their previous panic totally forgotten, both younglings proceeded to explore everything, and everyone, they could conceivably reach.

* * *

Cliffjumper watched Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's small charges in amusement, no wonder the two normally energetic front-liners were subdued and flopped on the couch. _I think those two could run anyone into the scrap heap. Cute mechlings though._ The easy-going red mech jerked slightly in surprise when Fast Track seemed to materialize on his shoulder, "Hi!" The youngling said excitedly.

Cliffjumper chuckled, "Well, hi again Fast Track. How's it going?"

Fast Track was looking around, "You're tall."

Cliffjumper shrugged, causing the mechling to giggle as he rode his newfound perch up and down, "I'll take that as a compliment, mechling." Fast Track smiled at him brightly, unintentionally causing the veteran's spark to melt at his cuteness.

As Cliffjumper turned his helm to eye the second mechling who was valiantly attempting to scale his leg, Fast Track asked, "What's that?"

He glanced down at the long, barely noticeable weld mark running along the length of his left shoulder plate, the one Fast Track was sitting on. He smiled, "Oh, that little thing? Just a little battle trophy I picked up orns ago during a mission to Protihex."

From his lap, Zipline panted slightly from his exertions and asked eagerly, "Really? What happened?"

Genuinely pleased that someone wanted to hear his stories and pointedly ignoring the chuckles and irritated 'aww' sounds coming from the other mechs, Cliffjumper launched into a youngling proofed version of his mission to Protihex, "Well, it all started out when we got a report that Decepticons had been sighted in the ruins of Protihex square. Myself and a few others were sent to investigate and mech, did we find the biggest surprise ever!…"

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello everyone, chapter thirteen is here! Just to let all of you know, I will be participating in the November NaNoWriMo and will probably be too busy to update this story for that month. Keeping up with a 50,000 word count goal is pretty much an 'every spare moment away from real life' venture. I might try to update during November once in a while, but I can make no promises.**

**Review Response: Dear KHGiggle, hi! I know, the twinlings are absolutely adorable when they're not up to mischief aren't they? I have fun writing them. The femmes meeting the twinlings, I forgot all about that! (adds to growing list of possible one-shots) No, the twins aren't identical just because they're twins. Zipline is the leader of the two, he's usually the one to think up the mischief or run off and do things he's specifically told not too while Fast Track is Zipline's loyal sidekick of sorts. Of course, that doesn't mean Fast Track is an innocent angel in the mischief department, he thinks up his fair share of trouble, he just doesn't think of it as often at his brother. Thank you very, very much for your list of femmes! I didn't know that so many existed in the canon Transformers-verse! I will have to look into including more of them later. Time paradox? Very clever idea, but not correct. Keep trying!**

**Dear SunnySides, hello! Congrats on unraveling the mysteries of twin-speech! Let me explain about Sunstreaker. I always got the impression that Sunstreaker was a possessive type, even if its an annoyance or a problem he considers it 'his' problem and doesn't like anyone else intervening expect for Sideswipe. Also, since Sideswipe and Sunstreaker are so close over their spark bond, when Sideswipe started to feel possessive over the twinlings the feeling carried over to Sunstreaker and triggered his dormant guardian subroutines. So it was more of Sideswipe triggering Sunstreaker then Sunstreaker feeling that way all by himself. Make sense? Here is your update as requested, I hope you enjoy it.**

**Dear Shimmer Mane, greetings! It is an honor to have you review! I've read all four of your stories and ****really enjoyed them! Especially your Shattered Glass fanfic New World, New Family, it's awesome! (coughs slightly to regain control of inner fan) Anyway, I thought it would be cute for the twins to become buddies with Cliffjumper, after all, they love to hear stories and Cliffjumper has no shortage of them. Hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Author's Note: As I said above, I will be participating in NaNoWriMo this November so you can probably expect total 'radio silence' so to speak. In the meantime though, would anyone care to tell me about Blaster's mini-cassettes? I've been researching them so I can someday include Blaster in my story but all I could find on Eject and Rewind was that the former loves using earth sports terms (which he wouldn't know at the point of my story that Blaster would show up in) and that the latter is a 'trivia master'. Not much to go on when it comes to personality or maturity level, though I think I gleaned enough to manage Steeljaw and Ramhorn. However, if anyone knows about Blaster's mini-cassettes beyond what the wiki says, I would appreciate the info. Also, what kind of accent does Blaster have? Is it like Jazz's or is it more 'normal'? Thank you all and enjoy the chapter!**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformer, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own is the plot and my OCs Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, Buffer, and Flash Fire.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: New Friends**

Starwish groaned softly to herself as she returned to the land of the living. Sitting up, she winced at the throbbing headache she immediately experienced upon committing the action. Looking around, she was surprised to find herself in her berth room, covered in the medical blanket First Aid had given her and with the lights mostly dimmed but not completely off. _What happened?_ It took several moments, but memories suddenly rushed back to her, bringing with them a flush of immense embarrassment. Starwish buried her head miserably in her hands, _please tell me I didn't do that! Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no! Ultra Magnus is going to lecture my head off … or put me in the brig … or both._

The triangular audio amplifiers on her ears suddenly twitched, an uncomfortable motion that she had grown mostly used to over time. The twitching was caused by the amplifiers picking up sounds and attempting to pinpoint them. As Starwish listened carefully, the sounds turned into voices. "Her behavior was unacceptable, Prime. She attacked Chromia and repeatedly refused to listen to orders from your sparkmate, Elita-1. Surely she needs to be disciplined."

Starwish curled tightly in on herself, feeling hideously like a frightened child who wanted to avoid punishment. Which, in a sense, she was. Optimus Prime's voice rumbled softly from the other side of the door, "She is a youngling, Magnus. Her spark is under an enormous amount of stress as are her systems. Her outburst was not in defiance of Elita or Chromia. Also, I highly doubt that her act of throwing a cube of soap at Chromia was a premeditated assault." _So … I'm not to be punished?_ Somehow, the thought did not make her feel any better.

There was a pause, "Now that the femmes have returned to base, might I presume that she is to be assigned new living quarters?"

A soft chuckle, "Yes, upon some discussion, Elita and I agreed to transfer her to Flareup and Moonracer's quarters. She is also to be placed under Elita's command and training. You however, will still be her official guardian."

Ultra Magnus actually sounded uneasy, "…yes, sir."

"What troubles you old friend?" Optimus's voice was so soothing and despite her humiliated misery, just listening to him made Starwish feel calmer.

Ultra Magus's voice sounded slightly tight, "I do not feel that I am optimal for the task of being the femling's guardian. She … permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Granted." Starwish could almost see Optimus nodding along with the statement.

A sigh emanated from the other room, "She is frightened of me, sir. I have attempted to … befriend her, but any time I speak to her, she becomes extremely unresponsive and withdrawn. I have set down rules that she follows to the letter, yet I feel more like I am more of a … a **prison warden** to her than a guardian that she can trust to protect her. In all honesty, sir, I have had no idea how to handle her from cycle one."

Starwish didn't hear Optimus's reply, she was too busy thinking about what Ultra Magnus had said. _He sounds so insecure. Is that how he sees this? I thought … I thought he wanted me to quiet when he was around and only asked about my day to be polite. He was trying to be nice?_ Starwish rolled this over in her mind a few times. Memories of their interactions over the past metacycles coming to the front to be examined.

Now that she studied the memories carefully, Ultra Magnus's actions could have been attempts to 'befriend' her. Very poor attempts, but still, perhaps the rule orientated mech Optimus had chosen as her legal guardian wasn't so bad after all. Perhaps he was simply inexperienced and afraid to make a mistake, just like her.

_Maybe I should try to be nicer. More friendly. If he really wants to be my guardian, than he won't get angry if I treat him more like one instead of a drill sergeant will he?_ She heard the sound of heavy footsteps fading and realized that Optimus was leaving their quarters. _Ultra Magnus's quarters, I'm moving. Again._

She expected to be left alone with her unfavorable thoughts, Ultra Magnus had never actually stepped inside her quarters after all. There had been the one time he'd stood in the doorway, but usually if he wanted to see her, he knocked on her door and requested her presence. So she couldn't stop herself from looking up in surprise when the door slid open and Ultra Magnus's distinctive shadow loomed in her room. His shoulders shifted slightly as he rumbled, "May I enter?"

* * *

Ultra Magnus stood in the door to his charge's berth room, doing his best to hide his nervousness. He had only been coming to check on her, he hadn't expected her to be awake. _Did she overhear my conversation with Prime?_ Resisting the urge to retreat, he asked as softly as he could, "May I enter?"

Vulnerable optics stared at him for a klik before Starwish nodded, "Uh-huh." Ignoring her improper word use, Ultra Magnus slowly entered the room. His optics briefly swept around and he was startled by how bare the room was. There were a few datapads haphazardly lined up on a shelf and the blanket First Aid had given her, but nothing else. It was the same as the one time prior that he had intruded to fetch her on behalf of Sunstreaker and Sideswipe. _I thought she simply hadn't finished settling in. This is all she has?_

He abruptly realized that he'd been staring at the room and returned his gaze hastily to Starwish, "Did you overhear the conversation I had with Prime?"

Ultra Magnus felt his spark twitch uncomfortably as he spotted a flash of fear briefly flicker through her optics, "Yes, sir. Parts of it. Mostly just how I was to be moved to new quarters." She blushed suddenly and hid her face in her servos, her voice became muffled, "I made such a scene…"

Remembering the words Optimus had spoken to him only moments ago, Ultra Magnus strode to the side of her berth and, hesitantly, reached out a broad servo to stroke her upper back. She stiffened underneath his touch and looked up at him in surprise. Magnus's lips twitched as he struggled to shed the military air that had been with him for most of his life, "You … you are not to blame. The trials you have been put through are many. Chromia is at fault for provoking you. Your new roommates are honorable femmes and will hold neither scorn nor malice in their sparks for your actions."

Starwish's frame began to incrementally relax under his touch, "It was still embarrassing. I don't like it when others see me cry."

Ultra Magnus knew how she felt, he did not like to show his emotions to others that often, especially not grief. His fingers gently brushed the base of her prosthetics, the action eliciting an involuntary purr of pleasure from Starwish's engine, "I am confident that you will get along Flareup and Moonracer, they are both kind and welcoming." He paused and debated whether or not to ask the question that had been bugging him ever since entering her room, "Are these the only possessions you have?"

Starwish sat up and glanced around the room, "Yes. Unless you count my buzz saw." Ultra Magnus fought not to frown, _a youngling, especially a femme like her, should have more than this. Surely she had personal items from her home or guardians._

"Did your guardians not give you things?" He instantly chided himself for asking such an intrusive question.

He was surprised by the short bitter laugh that fell from Starwish's lips, "Oh, sure. But it all got blown to smithereens when my guardian's housing unit exploded and-" she abruptly stopped and bit her lip, glancing up at Ultra Magnus nervously. It was as if she was afraid she'd said too much.

Ultra Magnus felt his spark tug with sadness, he was certain he knew what had caused her housing unit to explode. _Curse this war._ His hand stopped and he glared into the distance. To many suffered because of one mech's petty whims. To many lost those dear to them, all because of one mech who had a lust for power and an army of like minded filth.

"Sir?" He looked down at Starwish, she was eyeing him curiously, "May I ask a question?"

He nodded, "Ask freely." She bit her bottom lip component and curled her legs up to her chest.

Wrapping her arms around her legs, she stared at the wall and asked, "Why did Optimus Prime choose you to be my guardian?" Ultra Magnus had asked himself that many times, but it hurt to hear it from her. It was simply another sign of how inadequate he was for the task. He was a tactician who helped lead armies, he wasn't built to be a creator or a guardian, not anymore.

"Well…" He wasn't sure how to answer the question, he could answer with the logical reasons, but somehow he got the impression that wasn't what she was asking.

Looking up at him she continued, "I understand the logic behind it and I'm not questioning his judgement. It's just that … I get the feeling that there was another motive behind it. A, a second set of reasons that made him think of you. I heard what he said outside, even though I'm being reassigned to different quarters, you're still my guardian. I just get the feeling…" she averted her optics again, her voice lowering to a whisper, "I get the feeling there is more to this than meets the optic."

Ultra Magnus was surprised by her intuition, and her show of courage to tell him her suspicions. Also, the theory he had just been told mirrored his own. He thought that perhaps Optimus was trying to teach him something by assigning him as a guardian of a femme.

Optimus's words came back to him, _"You must learn to let go, Magnus. I do not believe that she fears you as much as she is afraid to approach you. I have read the observations of other mechs who have had contact with her and they all say that she is sweet but shy. She is also well aware that you have many duties. Reach out to her, she will accept your advances of friendship, but only if you make them in the first place."_ His leader and friend had paused before adding gently,_ "Perhaps she is not the only one who withdraws when you two are in the same room?"_

Returning to the present he said, "I believe you are correct." She blinked at him in surprise, "I am … not the most social of mechs. Perhaps he believed that you would …" he searched for a proper term.

"Draw you out of your shell?" Starwish hazarded quietly.

Ultra Magnus nodded, "Indeed."

She seemed to be considering something for several kliks before shyly saying, "Perhaps, sir, we could make a bit of deal?"

He frowned quizzically, "Explain."

She vented once or twice, unintentionally reminding Magnus of Ratchet's words about her damaged processor, "How about, if you teach me more about staying in control of my emotions I … I'll teach you about showing emotions more often?"

Ultra Magnus considered her proposal in complete seriousness for a full bream before hesitantly nodding and saying, "Very well, Starwish. You have a 'deal'." Looking up into his face, she smiled at him for what he realized was the first time. He hesitantly smiled back. As they smiled at each other, his hand resting gently on her back, he felt a tug pull on his spark, faint and somehow musical. His spark skipped a beat, _a guardian bond request…_

He briefly hesitated from accepting it, to do so would forever seal his position as her guardian, even if another should come along who was more worthy. Also, he hadn't had a bond since the death of his beloved sparkmate and the scars of her offlining still haunted him. But, looking down into the innocent face of the femme before him, he decided that perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to let someone else in.

He answered the tug and saw Starwish's eyes widen in shock, she either hadn't expected him to accept or hadn't even known her spark was making the request. The tiny thread that was a beginning bond thrummed slightly with surprise and happiness and Magnus decided that his decision was the right one, "I believe we have much to learn from each other … young spark."

* * *

Hardwire sat on the floor, knees curled up towards his chest, arms splayed backwards to keep himself balanced, watching the life of an alien city rush by absently. Algol's beautiful and exotic cityscape was amazing, but despite how enchanting it appeared, Hardwire's thoughts were troubled and far away. After being released by Prowl, something that still surprised him, and his encounter with the twins and their guardians, he had attempted to find his way back to the training room to hit something. A punching bag maybe, the wall if nothing else was available. Unfortunately, he had gotten totally lost and after the incident with Bulkhead had not been in the mood to risk asking for directions.

Purely by accident, he had found the observatory. Peeking inside, he had discovered it to be empty and had stepped inside to marvel at the view. The observatory was huge. With walls and a ceiling made totally of a see-through material Hardwire could only assume was Cybertronian glass, any who entered the room would have an almost three-sixty view of the city of Algol.

Hardwire tilted his head back to watch someone fly overhead and briefly wondered who it might be. _I heard that there were some Autobots who could fly. Wonder what it's like? To fly under ones own power._ "Great view isn't it?" Hardwire yelled in surprise and jolted, falling ungracefully on his side in an attempt to put distance between himself and the voice.

Rolling onto his back, he lifted his head to blink uncomprehendingly at the chuckling femme. _Ah, pit. It's her._ Chromia stood over him, her hands resting on her hips, chuckling at his embarrassing display. Hardwire felt his spark start beating a crazy rhythm against his chest and started taking deep breaths in an effort to calm. The blue femme who had shot his leg previously abruptly stopped chuckling and eyed him, "Relax, mech. I'm not here to shoot you."

Sitting up slowly, Hardwire tried not to show just how scared he was of a femme less than twice his size, "Good … good to know." Looking around, he suddenly wished that he wasn't alone, a witness might have helped matters. _Stop panicking!_ A little voice in his head berated, _she already said that she isn't here to shoot you! She probably just came to the observatory to enjoy the view and didn't even know you were there!_

Hardwire scrambled to his feet and inched for the door, murmuring, "I'll leave you alone."

Chromia's hand whipped out and grabbed his arm, eliciting a surprised noise, "Hold up. I came here to talk to you."

Hardwire suppressed a groan, _great. Now what?_ "Yes, ma'am?"

Chromia glanced briefly down at the floor before looking up into his optics, "I came to apologize for … ah … shooting you in the leg and the threats I made afterwards." Hardwire stared at her, _okay, I did not see _**_that_**_ one coming._ Taking his silence incorrectly, she released his arm and continued, "I'll completely understand if you hold a grudge and want to beat the scrap out of me. I won't let you, naturally, but I'll understand."

Hardwire couldn't stop a tiny chuckle from escaping him, "I don't really like to hold grudges, especially against bots who could kick my skid-plates with both servos tied behind them."

Chromia looked both relieved that he'd accepted her apology and amused at his opinion of her, "Smart mech." Glancing around at the lively cityscape outside, she asked, "So, what are you doing up here? Would have thought you'd be getting to know the others on base."

Hardwire felt his bad mood return with a vengeance, "Yeah … tried it. Didn't really end well," he glowered at a particularly tall skyscraper, "surprise, surprise. Mechs with red optics who so much as twitch incorrectly end up in the security office under heavy guard."

* * *

Chromia raised an optic ridge, _ouch. Bitter much? Can't blame him though._ "They're just twitchy around strangers. The bots'll warm up to you in time."

The tall green mech grunted noncommittally, his expression still dark and contemplative. Feeling the urge to lighten his mood, Chromia joked, "Trying to activate a laser vision mod? Because I don't think that skyscraper is the best target."

Her words had the desired effect, he blinked at her in confusion for a klik before suddenly realizing what she meant and smiling, "Yeah, I guess you're right." He paused, clearly unsure of how to proceed in her presence. Chromia was having a similar problem. She wasn't a 'small-talk' type of femme, especially with mechs. If she knew the mech, than she could talk to them about relevant things, but talking to strangers wasn't her strong point. Scrap, this was so out of character for her. But, she did feel the need to make things right between herself and the newcomers on base and this was the route Elita had advised.

Studying his frame thoughtfully, she latched onto a conversation idea, "What's your function? You look like a heavy lifter."

Hardwire glanced down at his frame briefly, "Yeah, I suppose I do." He frowned, "I don't really know what my … function is. I was mostly doing odd jobs up until now."

The new found knowledge stabbed at Chromia's spark, a mech his age should at least have an idea of his function. Most knew what they wanted to do when they were entering their second-frame. War didn't leave to many non-army options though, "Any interests then?"

Hardwire shrugged, "Well … when I was a youngling I wanted to be an actor." Chromia couldn't suppress a snort of amusement, Hardwire actually grinned at her laughter. His expression morphed into one of concentration, "I also like to read about weapons … does that count?"

Chromia felt her interest peek, "Sure does. How much have you learned?"

Again, he shrugged, "I can identify weapon models fairly well and I can usually identify their main function."

Chromia impulsively decided to prove his words and drew one of her battle pistols out of subspace. Hardwire saw the motion and leapt backwards with a yelp. Chromia was quick to reassure him, "Take it easy, mech. I just wanted to see if you could identify this one."

He eyed her suspiciously for a klik before looking down at her blaster. Hardwire's response time was nano-kliks before he started rattling off info, "Energon battle pistol model X-224. Equipped with a 5x scope, it can hold roughly ten rounds of armor piercing 50-90 ammo. Used mostly by the scout-caste, but occasionally by the warrior-caste for emergency anti-sniper situations." Chromia felt her jaw go slightly slack at the database-like knowledge Hardwire had just rattled off.

After showing him three more guns, all of which were completely different, and getting a perfect summery of each from the mech before her, Chromia was fairly convinced that she was in the presence of a weapons prodigy. Or at least a weapons geek.

He looked at her shyly, "Uh … did I get all that right?"

Chromia grinned, "Close enough. You would get along with my sparkmate so well." She brightened, "Hey! There's an idea, how about I introduce you to him? He's got a joor or two of free time before his next patrol and would love like processored company."

Glad for a way to get out of making awkward small talk and without waiting for his answer, she subspaced the plasma rifle she'd been showing him, grabbed Hardwire's servo, and began cheerfully dragging him out of the observatory. The confused mech trailed after her, mumbling, "Well, if you're sure."

Chromia smirked, "Sure I'm sure!" Reaching out through her spark bond, she called, _"Hey 'Hide, where are you?"_

Ironhide's reply was swift and tinted with amusement, _"In the rec room watching Cliffjumper have a willing audience for once, why?"_

Chromia raised an optic ridge in surprise even though Ironhide couldn't see the motion, _"Really? Huh, well, head back to our quarters, I've found an apprentice for you."_

There was a long pause, _"Come again?"_

Chromia was fully aware of the stares her mildly crazed smirk and red opticed companion were receiving. She also couldn't have cared less, _"You'll see. Just be there!"_

Ironhide sent her a wave of amused bafflement, _"Alright then. See you there."_

Chromia went silent over their bond, inwardly pleased to no end. Not only would this get Hardwire out of a bad mood, thus helping to make up for shooting him and the crying spell she had caused his sister to have, but it would also help the mech to gain a friend. Besides, who didn't like to talk about weapons?

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi everyone! So, I managed to do a major writing spree on my NaNo project and am thus several days ahead of my projected word count goal. Thus, I have time to update this story!**

**Review Response: Dear Shimmer Mane, hello! You're welcome, and thank you for the update on New World, New Family, I enjoyed it immensely. I do not think Harmony Wave is Mary-Sueish per say, I just think that the story hasn't progressed far enough to fully develop her character. All in all, I think that you're doing just fine with her. I always considered a Mary Sue as someone who has a thoroughly traumatizing backstory (for the character at least) and yet is completely fine and extraordinarily talented/mysterious/cheerful. Harmony Wave isn't like that at all. She's had bad experiences which make her wary and even bitter against the Autobots, but has also had a very loving upbringing from Soundwave which attributes to her cheerful or mischievous side. I hope you enjoy this chapter of my story!**

**Dear KHGiggle, hello! So, as you can see, I have managed to update! Unfortunately this chapter doesn't feature the twinlings or Cliffjumper, but you will see them interacting again in a later chapter, don't worry. Seeing as Ultra Magnus already was suspicious of any mechs interacting with Starwish to begin with, he probably is going to get more protective. However, I don't see him as a 'pull out the shotgun and shoot' type of guardian, he strikes me as more of a 'touch her inappropriately and I'll lock you in the brig for eternity' type. But, we'll see. Not sure about how this will effect his relationship with her brothers, he might become a little more protective of them, but not by much. His focus will be more on his job and on Starwish. Yes, Hardwire really studied weapons as a human. But the weapons he studied were earth weapons from various time periods. He used that part of his backstory as a convenient cover for the 'weapons encyclopedia' he has in his head. Thank you for the tip, I shall look up the list.**

**Dear SunnySides, hello again! Oh, he knows who Ironhide is, but it's kind of hard to run away when a gun-toting femme as a death grip on your wrist. Besides, everyone on base has orders from Optimus not to shoot Hardwire, so that should protect him from Ironhide's cannons as long as he doesn't do anything suspicious. You're ****welcome, happy to help clear up any misunderstandings! Since everyone seems so eager to know, then be aware that there is a major clue/reveal hidden in Chapter Sixteen. So keep a lookout when I post it. Which admittedly, may not be until December, but we will see. You're update wish is granted! Hope you enjoy it.**

**Dear TFAN Override, hi! Nothing else to read? Ouch, I know how that feels and sympathize completely. Let me help ease your boredom by posting a new chapter! As for the twinlings and the twins, the twinlings will be pulling a prank in ... Chapter Fifteen I believe, but you'll have to wait a bit before seeing a collaboration between the big twins and the little twins, the glitches keep running away whenever I try to overhear pranking their plans (glares moodily at the twins and twinlings).**

**Author's Note: Not too much to say, just that I hope I got Flareup and Moonracer's personalities correct. Also, if anyone has been trying to PM me, I haven't been receiving the messages because my PM function was disabled. I have no idea if anyone can try to PM someone when the PM function is disabled but just in case, I thought I should let you know that it is now enabled. Also, can someone pretty please tell me what Perceptor's personality is like? I've read some fan fiction stories where he is emotionless and cold, but other stories where he's cheerful and overly wordy. The TFwiki seems to hint that his personality is the latter but I can't be sure. Does anyone know? I would like to include him in a future chapter along with Blaster but research material on them is surprisingly hard to find.**

**Copyright Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers, Cybertronian terms, or any references made in this story. The only things I own are the plot and my OCs Starwish, Hardwire, Zipline, Fast Track, Buffer, and Flash Fire.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Getting Along**

Starwish felt like hiding behind Ultra Magnus when she caught sight of her new roommates. Seeing them again made the recent memories of her 'meltdown' all the more painful. Ultra Magnus paused in his strides and Starwish felt a gentle feeling of reassurance softly brush her spark. She looked up wonderingly at the tall mech again. Being able to pick up or be 'sent' emotional impressions was … new and interesting to say the least. _I wonder if this is what the twins feel like all the time … only stronger and more immature._

The reassuring 'nudge' in her spark pushed a little harder, accompanied by a 'pay attention' vibe that had Starwish obediently looking over to the other two femmes. The two femmes, one a sea green, the other a mix of red and orange, appeared to be keeping their distance, an act which made Starwish blush in shame. _Probably think I'm a spoiled brat._

She whispered softly, "Ultra Magnus, sir? I would not think to question the orders of a Prime … but is this really a good idea?"

Ultra Magnus nodded firmly, "Yes. Now, go introduce yourself to them. They are both quite friendly, as long as you adhere to proper etiquette, you will get along adequately." _Adequately? Proper etiquette?_

"Not the best way to be comforting, sir." Her sullen mutter was deflected smoothly.

"I have a meeting on the other side of the base in two breems, go." There was a hesitant pause and Starwish blinked in surprise when Ultra Magnus briefly brushed the base of her prosthetics, "You will do fine." His hand returned to his side and without waiting for any further protest from her, the tall mech strode away.

Starwish watched him go for several seconds, feeling very much like a sheep left to the mercy of wolves. Huffing slightly, she slowly turned to face her two new roommates. Moonracer smiled, "Hi there, I'm Moonracer, and this is Flareup."

Flareup grinned, "Hey there."

Starwish nodded timidly, "Hey."

Flareup cocked her head to one side, "Come on over, I promise we don't bite." Feeling like she could melt into the floor, Starwish padded over to them. She squeaked in surprise as Flareup flung an arm casually over her shoulder, "So, I get the distinct impression that you'd rather pretend we've never met before this cycle. Therefor, I suggest we do just that and show you to your new quarters. Sound good?"

Starwish blinked up at the femme who was, surprise, surprise, a head taller than her. Caught off guard by Flareup's bluntness, she stammered "Uh, okay. Thank you."

Flareup nodded decisively and released Starwish's shoulders, "Good! Our quarters are this way." Without another word, she strode down the hall, her body posture nothing but cheerful purpose.

Moonracer giggled at Starwish's baffled look, "Yeah, she's like that a lot. You'll get used to it." Starwish nodded mutely and followed Moonracer and Flareup to her new quarters.

Moonracer and Flareup's quarters were nowhere near as spacious as Ultra Magnus's. Instead of several rooms, this was just a single, albeit large, room filled with three berths, a large weapons rack and miscellaneous items that testified to it status as inhabited. Flareup spread her arms expansively at the room, "What's ours is yours. Except the explosives, those are mine." _Is that what those are? Who keeps explosives on their _**_nightstand_**_?_

Moonracer said more understandably, "Go ahead, pick a berth and make yourself comfortable." Starwish smiled weakly and, after brief consideration, quietly picked the berth in the far corner. As she carefully pulled her blanket out of subspace, something she was getting steadily better at, she couldn't help but think idly, _I wonder if collage roommates are like this. Unique right off of the bat._

Laying her blanket across the berth, Starwish then carefully removed her datapads one by one and stacked them neatly on the small shelf in the wall that served as a nightstand. Turning around, she noted the unreadable looks Moonracer and Flareup were directing her way, "Uh, is this okay? Did I take the wrong berth?"

Moonracer shook her head immediately, "Not at all, I said you could pick any one that you wanted. It's just…" She hesitated, as if realizing that she'd been about to ask an insensitive question.

Flareup finished it for her, "Is that all you have?"

Starwish covered her embarrassment with a shrug, "Well … there wasn't much left after the housing unit exploded. Mostly just Zip and Track's two favorite toys and our lives."

Moonracer looked about to apologize, but Flareup interrupted, "Ah, that makes sense. How about we find somewhere comfy to chat and get to know each other?"

Starwish mentally concluded that Flareup was not one to dwell on the past and preferred to move on whenever possible. A sentiment which was fine by her in this situation, even if she was most likely about to be grilled for info, "That … sounds good. Anywhere particular you have in processor?"

Flareup's optics lit up slightly, "I know just the place."

'The place' turned out to be a small corner booth in the pub where the femmes could huddle over cubes of sweetened energon and talk. Flareup swirled her cube expertly, "So, any hobbies?"

Starwish kept her eyes firmly on the contents of her cube as she muttered, "I like to read ... I dance sometimes. I sing a little bit too."

Moonracer sipped at her energon before replying, "That's cool! I'm a racer myself. They call me the fastest femme on the track."

Flareup took an unladylike swig and said cheerfully, "I blow up stuff." Moonracer nudged Flareup firmly with her elbow and Flareup glared, "What? I do! I blow stuff up and I glitching enjoy it!"

Moonracer protested, "You're **job** is to blow up stuff, so it doesn't count as a hobby."

Flareup seemed to ponder this newfound information, "Okay, then I guess my hobby would be … polishing my guns? Or maybe racing? But that's kind of your thing Moon so…"

Starwish bit back a giggle, she couldn't tell whether Flareup was honestly confused on the definition of 'hobby' or if the two were just trying to get Starwish to lighten up. But if it was the latter, it was working.

Flareup finally gave up trying to find a subject that Moonracer counted as a hobby and turned to Starwish, "All right. So, tradition states that whenever a femme joins under Elita-1's direct command, at least one of the senior femmes has to make sure they clear certain criteria. That criteria being…" Flareup paused as a group of mechs sauntered into the pub and sat down at the counter before resuming smugly, "you've been on base for four metacycles, how many mechs have started panting at your pedes and do you like any of them back?"

Starwish sat back slightly, this wasn't what she had been expecting at all, "Uh…"

Moonracer put in helpfully, "For instance, when I first arrived on a mech populated base with Chromia and Flareup, I had about … twenty mechs all trying to flirt with me in the same cycle. However, none of them interested me, so I let Chromia chase them off with her guns."

_Why do I get the feeling that their just trying to dig up teasing material on me? Oh well, in the spirit of being a roommate,_ "No one has really flirted with me per say. Well, except for Sideswipe, but Sunstreaker keeps him under control most of the time. I think Ultra Magnus being my guardian has kind of scared off most of the flirters."

Moonracer snorted, "All but Sideswipe naturally. The mech has **no** self preservation protocols, I swear. You're very lucky to have only Sideswipe chasing you openly, there is nothing more disconcerting than having a pack of mechs follow you wherever they can."

Flareup idly watched the mechs at the counter, winking at one that happened to glance their way in an evil 'flirt and I'll kill you' sort of way, "So, no obvious suitors. But that doesn't answer the question of whether a mech has caught your optic or not. Sideswipe **is** kinda cute after all, it's just a pity he has such a glitch as a sibling."

Starwish came to Sunstreaker's defense immediately, "Sunstreaker isn't all that bad. He's just anti-social. Besides, he's always been fairly polite to me." Her statement seemed to on the same scale of unbelievability as claiming to have seen a unicorn. Both of her new roommates stared at her.

Moonracer got an excited look on her face and leaned in conspiratorially, "Really? Sunstreaker has never so much as looked at the rest of us unless it's to paint our portraits. Even then, he's always on the rude side. I wonder … has a femme finally caught his optic?"

Starwish felt heat rush to her face and shook her head wildly, "No, no, no! It is definitely not like that! It's only because I'm the sister of his wards! If I don't like someone, the twins don't like that someone and they'll make no end of trouble. He's only nice to make sure I'll help keep my brothers under control, I'm sure."

Flareup had a calculating look on her face, "Uh-huh. But do you like him? Sunstreaker?"

Starwish felt her blush grow, "No! Not that way I mean … I'm not attracted to Sideswipe either. Sides is just too immature."

Flareup actually looked relieved, "Good, now I don't have to play matchmaker to keep you away from him. Sunstreaker is definitely not sparkmate material." _How is playing matchmaker any better? Besides, who is she to judge a mech as 'sparkmate material' or not? Not that I care particularly._

Moonracer was smiling, "So … who do you like? Surely in a base filled with the Autobot's finest there's **somebot** who's caught your attention."

Starwish shook her head again, "I don't think so. Sure, one or two of them might be … cute. But I'm not interested in relationships of that nature right now." _Especially not with alien robot guys._

Moonracer nodded, "Perfectly understandable. I officially declare you passed on the 'mech' criteria. I must say, you did better than I did."

Starwish cocked her head one side, "Really?"

At that prompt, Flareup and Moonracer happily launched into bold recantations of their various first adventures under the command of Elita-1. By the time a joor had passed, Starwish was giggling too hard to even flinch when Flareup recounted a tale involving the infamous Chromia and her temper.

* * *

Listening to Starwish giggle madly over the tale they had just told her, all of her previous reclusiveness having vanished, Flareup and Moonracer shared a triumphant glance. Operation: Befriend the New Femme was officially a success. Operation: New Sister in Arms could now commence in safety.

* * *

Ironhide patiently guided Hardwire through the steps of how to clean an energon battle pistol, inwardly marveling at how quietly and eagerly the younger mech listened. The mech was a regular database of knowledge when it came to weapons. The only thing Hardwire was truly lacking was actual field experience with the weapons he had read so much about.

_"__You know, 'Hide. When I said I was bringing you an apprentice, I was half joking. But now I'm slagging serious about it. He'd make a scary sight for the 'cons on the battlefield with the proper training."_

Without breaking stride in his lesson, Ironhide replied, _"Definitely. He's got the frame for it too."_ Ironhide paused, checking his internal chronometer, _frag._ Straightening up from where he'd been leaning over his shoulder, "Sorry, Hardwire, but we're going to have to finish this another time. I've got patrol in a few breems."

Hardwire looked up from his work and nodded obediently, "Sure. Thank you for teaching me, Ironhide. This … this was fun."

Ironhide grinned broadly as the younger mech stood up, rubbing oil off of his servos with a polishing cloth, "Not a problem. It's good to finally teach someone who already knows the muzzle from the trigger for once." Hardwire smiled back at him, his red optics lighting slightly. Ironhide firmly pushed down the automatic alarm bells the mech's optics set off, Hardwire was not a Decepticon and not to be blasted. Optimus had made that **very** clear to the entire base.

Escorting Hardwire to the door, Ironhide couldn't help but ask, "You got any weapons of your own?"

Hardwire actually flinched at the question for reasons lost on Ironhide, "Yeah … one or two … they were my creator's before he offlined. I don't really…" _Ah, that explains the flinch. The weapons are probably Decepticon make, not good things to flaunt when your a red opticed new recruit._

Ironhide replied easily, "It's fine. You don't have to show me if you don't want to. But if you ever want to show them off or need advice on them, feel free to drop by."

As they reached the door, Hardwire smiled slightly, "Thank you Ironhide, I might do that next-" the door slid open to reveal a very rotund and uncomfortable-looking green mech standing outside.

Hardwire stiffened silently, his red optics hardening with anger at the sight of the mech. Ironhide recognized the mech as Bulkhead, a transfer from the Wreckers. Ironhide also recognized signs of tension between Hardwire and Bulkhead and narrowed his optics calculatingly. If the two started to fight, Ironhide would have to break them up, and that would make him late for patrol.

Bulkhead rubbed the back of his helm sheepishly, "Uh … I … some of the mechs saw you headed this way, Hardwire, and I thought that I should, you know, show you where your quarters are…"

Hardwire stared stiffly at Bulkhead for several kliks before curtly nodding, "Sure. Lead the way." Ironhide raised an optic ridge, wondering if he should be worried about Hardwire's drastic attitude change.

Ironhide placed a servo on Hardwire's shoulder and asked, "You okay, Wire? Prowl could always give you a map."

Hardwire gave Ironhide a tight, fake smile, "No, it's fine. Bulkhead's my roommate." The not-smile dropped and Hardwire stepped out into the hall, looking expectantly at Bulkhead who rumbled uncomfortably in his vents and shuffled off.

Chromia came to the door to watch Hardwire walk off with Bulkhead, waiting until they disappeared around the corner to comment, "Well, don't they just look like the best of pals."

Ironhide grunted worriedly, he couldn't help but feel a touch protective of Hardwire, Wreckers were very violent, sometimes at the drop of a credit chip. He should know, he had been a founding member back in the cycle. Chromia patted her sparkmate's arm comfortingly, "Don't worry, anyone who can hold a civil conversation with a femme who shot his leg can handle the roommate jitters without resorting to violence."

Ironhide snorted and started striding off towards the base entrance, "That wasn't what I was worried about." _There are other mechs on base that'll intervene if something happens anyway. Besides, the mech can probably hold his own in a fight if he gets desperate enough._

* * *

Hardwire knew he wasn't exactly being fair to Bulkhead, but in all honesty he didn't know how to breach the metaphorical wall of ice. Bulkhead's sudden 'betrayal' had hurt. A lot. The fact that the former Wrecker's reaction was logical given the era and setting didn't help to soothe his injured dignity.

Also, he wasn't really sure if Bulkhead wasn't still watching him for any signs of 'Decepticon' activity to turn him in to Prowl again. Hardwire had nothing to apologize for, except his own impulsiveness maybe, but it wasn't like he could turn to Bulkhead and demand he say, "I'm sorry."

Hardwire's head jerked up in surprise, he hadn't expected Bulkhead to speak, "Come again?"

Bulkhead looked decidedly uncomfortable, "I said I'm sorry. I should have given you the, uh, 'benefit of the doubt' instead of going all security guard on you." Bulkhead's blue optics blinked at him almost shyly, "So, uh, if there's anything I can do to make it up to you… unless you don't want to speak to me anymore, which I can totally understand. It's just that I really am sorry and I … aw, scrap I have no idea what I'm saying."

Hardwire tried to decide whether he should laugh at the look on Bulkhead's face as he stumbled out an apology or demand to know what Prowl had done to the Wrecker to make him so … repentant. Instead of either reaction, Hardwire smiled lopsidedly to hide his lingering resentment and said, "You're forgiven, Bulkhead. I probably would have reacted the same way in your place."

Bulkhead's shoulders sagged with relief, "So, no hard feelings?"

Hardwire knew that even if he still felt a little bit miffed right now, it would be better to agree with Bulkhead, thus opening the door to letting the feelings go in reality, "No hard feelings. So … where's our quarters?"

Bulkhead stopped and pointed, "Oh, they're right … over there? Uh…" Bulkhead blinked at the blank wall he had pointed to and looked around, "I could've sworn it was this way."

Hardwire deadpanned, "So, we're lost?"

Bulkhead looked mildly insulted, "Of course not! I'm just a little turned around is all. It has to be nearby, its got my designation plate on it and everything."_ We're lost._

Hardwire sighed and chuckled at Bulkhead's befuddled mutterings as the latter looked around and scratched his helm. He had somehow expected the Wrecker to be a little more … directionally competent. _Apparently not. Or at least, not yet._ Hearing someone else just around the corner, Hardwire cautiously went to go ask for directions.

Hardwire stepped around the corner and into sight of an Autobot he didn't recognize, "Excuse me?"

The smaller white and blue Autobot blinked at him in surprise but, thankfully, made no move to attack, "Oh, hello. I did not see you there. Can I be of assistance somehow?"

Hardwire smiled, grateful at the non-hostile reaction, "Um, yeah. See, my roommate is lost and I have no clue where he was taking me anyway. Could you help us get our bearings?"

The bot nodded politely, "Of course." As Hardwire motioned for the stranger to follow him back to a still befuddled Bulkhead, he couldn't shake the feeling that the bot's voice was familiar. _Maybe it's because he sounds like he's from England?_

Bulkhead looked up from his confused mutterings and blinked at the sight of the Autobot following Hardwire, "Wire, what are you doing?"

Hardwire made a casual gesture towards the blue and white english-mech, "We are lost. So, I have asked this kind mech to give us directions."

Bulkhead looked flabbergasted, "We don't need directions to our quarters!"

Hardwire just blinked in a deadpan manner, his expression clearly saying 'yeah, we do'. The mech whom Hardwire had approached coughed slightly, "Excuse me, but perhaps if you were to state where you wished to go, I could provide some assistance?"

Hardwire stared expectantly at Bulkhead. Bulkhead sighed and muttered something about 'Wreckers never needing directions' before answering, "Living quarters twenty-one B, hall thirty."

The aristocratic sounding mech nodded calmly and pointed in the opposite direction Bulkhead had been going, "Just head that way and take the first hall on your right. After that, turn left and you will be there."

Hardwire dipped his head, "Thank you, sir."

The helpful mech actually smiled a tiny bit, "Fortunately or unfortunately, I am not a commissioned officer, so you need not call me 'sir'. My designation is Mirage. It is a pleasure to see you up and about Hardwire."

Hardwire started, "You know me?"

Mirage seemed to hesitate, "Well, yes. Though I suppose you do not know it. I was with the search party that found you and your family unit." _Oh. Guess that makes sense. Maybe that's where I heard his voice before?_

Hardwire grinned agreeably, "Nice to meet you officially then, Mirage. Thank you again for the directions." Mirage merely waved a hand in dismissal of his thanks and continued on his way.

Once Mirage was gone and the two tall green mechs had resumed the trek to their quarters, Bulkhead asked, "So … wanna play Lob next cycle?"

Hardwire watched as his roommate opened the door to their quarters and followed him in, thinking over the proposition while observing the room. It was sloppy, chaotic, and filled with bits and pieces of equipment Hardwire could only begin to guess the purpose of. In other words, it was like walking into a sci-fi version of his own room back on earth. Striding to an uncluttered berth, Hardwire stretched out on it and placed his hands comfortably behind his head as pillows, "Sure, why not?"

Bulkhead heedlessly knocked the clutter off of the second berth and began happily chattering about Lob and the various games he had previously played in his old unit. Looking up at the ceiling and only half listening to Bulkhead as he drifted to sleep, Hardwire mentally reviewed the day and decided something. _Maybe this won't be so bad after all._

* * *

**Cybertronian Time Terms:**

**Nano-klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a mili-second or half-second.**

**Klik: Cybertronian equivalent of a second.**

**Breem: Cybertronian equivalent of a minute.**

**Joor: Cybertronian equivalent of an hour.**

**Cycle/lunar cycle: Cybertronian equivalent of day or night.**

**Metacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a week.**

**Orn: Cybertronian equivalent of a month.**

**Vorn: Cybertronian equivalent of a year.**

**Megacycle: Cybertronian equivalent of a century or eon.**


End file.
